Love is a many splendored thing
by IThinkIJustGleedMyself
Summary: A/U - Rachel is on her last chance, struggling to get her life on track again and Finn wants to escape his own "perfect" life. One argument in the street leads to a lot more than they ever thought could happen...
1. The beginning

'_Love is a many splendid thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!"_

_**Please don't start that again**__._

"_All you need is love"_

_**A girl has got to eat.**_

"_All you need is love."_

_**She'll end up on the street.**_

"_All you need is love."_

_**Love is just a game.**_

* * *

"Oh please sir! I'll have your money by next week at the latest. It's just that my job has unfortunately expired and now I'm spending hours each day searching for a new one. Do you know how hard it is to find a job that fits my skill requirements? It's almost impossible!" Rachel ranted to her landlord, tightening her jumper around her waist as she did so. Ever since she'd stopped paying the bills, her apartment (if you could call it that) was colder than she'd ever thought possible, all of the windows condensed fully and giving the place an unwelcome atmosphere. Then again, she always did like being on her own and the solitary that the apartment caused wasn't so bad.

Her landlord pursed his lips together, clearly unhappy with her pleads. In a last attempt of gaining sympathy, she began to make herself cry, one of her many talents, until he uncomfortably tried to comfort her. His large arm wrapped clumsily around her own arm for a second. "Don't cry," he said softly. When she looked up at him, tears blinding her, he continued, "I'm sorry Rachel, really. But it's been two months and I can't wait any longer." Releasing his hold on her, he took cautious steps back. Meanwhile, she stood by her tattered couch lifelessly, staring at his apologetic eyes. "If you can't pay by the end of next week, you'll be out on the streets."

And then he left.

She could hear him whistling as he walked down the hall, whistling a tune to make her bottom lip quiver and the tears to fall for real this time.

What was she supposed to do? She had nowhere to go, nobody to rely on. In the big lonely city of New York she was nothing, a mere speck on the enormous place and nobody cared about her, never mind loved her.

She needed to get out of her apartment, to be rid of the consistent reminders of her failures. Grabbing her coat, she rushed out as quickly as she could into the chilly air, walking wherever her legs carried her. Maybe it would clear her head and a solution to her problems would present itself in some shape or form. Rachel had however learned that this happening was as slim as her chanced of winning the lottery and she would be a fool to convince herself otherwise. As another stranger barged into her, adding an annoyed look, she was again reminded of the unwritten rule of the city: only look out for yourself. Yes, a sad truth that she'd learned within less than a week. In reality, nobody cared. There she was, crying in the middle of the high street, her pain stricken face exposed to every passer-by and what do they do? Nothing, not even a small "are you alright?" Rubbing her hands together, she tried to ignore the cold and focused on fixing her shattered breath, which always came out as a mocking croak.

The tears obstructed her view easily and so, she didn't see the man straight ahead of her, riding his bicycle cheerily. He rang the bell first, seeing the small girl in his path and again when she hadn't moved. Beginning to panic, his hand shot for the brakes which noisily halted the bicycle merely centimetres away from the girl. Startled, she jumped back from the close proximity of him and frowned, turning to leave.

"Well, aren't you going to say sorry?" he demanded to know, the anger seeping through his voice.

Head whipping around, her deep brown eyes, sore and wide, locked onto his, "excuse me? That's no way to talk to a lady!"

To his annoyance, she had a point. His mother had made it her mission to bring him up as polite as possible, despite the lack of a father figure to demonstrate and, over the years, he'd done her proud, opening doors, always remembering his manners, but she was hundreds of miles away and so this one argument couldn't exactly hurt. The tiny girl was smiling smugly at him with her comment, again making to walk away. He looked her up and down, scrutinising every detail of her. The clothes which, despite being aged, clearly had been taken good care of, along with her hair that had been neatly placed in a low bun. She was thin, no, extremely skinny. Frighteningly so_. Girls and their crazy diets_ he thought. There was a strange feeling and he couldn't let himself watch her take the slow steps away from him. "Lady?" he scoffed, "you look like you've barely made it out of kindergarten!"

Her mouth widened in shock. He'd almost shouted the words and, ironically, it was then when the people bustling around the street decided to take any notice of her. Unlike her usual self, she couldn't even manage one word in reply, leaving him to sneer even further. "I know that it might be a little advanced for a kid like you, "he mocked, "but haven't they already taught you not to run in front of moving things at school? Pay attention or next time, I won't stop."

Who was this man? And why was he taking it in his stride to be so rude toward her? Holding herself awkwardly, she didn't bother to say anything back and fuel his growing anger. Instead, she felt her head shake slowly from side to side before she bolted off the way she'd just came. Rachel hadn't known why but there had been an overpowering feeling within her, a scary one at that and she'd found it much easier to run from it. She was walking in the familiar direction of the nearest bar, of which she knew like the back of her hand. Without even thinking about it, she turned her head to gaze at the man once more, the man who was cycling across the road, clearly more agitated than before.

She should have been angry: he'd been downright rude and she normally wouldn't stand for that, but all she could so was walked away. She wasn't angry; she wasn't sure what she was. Opening the door to the bar, she felt a little relieved to see that the barman tonight was Noah and not that little brat James. He noticed her and sent a smirk in her direction, his own take on a greeting, before picking up a glass and filling it.

Unhappily, she sat on the stool and gave an overdramatic sigh.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, placing down her drink before her. Closer, Rachel noticed that his Mohawk had grown longer, though it was really the only change. He still had his smug demeanour and, though she'd never tell him, was still as attractive as ever with his tanned skin and toned body. Though, Rachel thought that she was doing him a favour by not raising his already massive ego.

"Just some guy," she mumbled, taking a sip of her drink. Noah noticeably tensed at the thought of having the "guy talk" with her, but she was quick to reassure him otherwise. "I _accidentally_ got in his way and he started yelling at me. And that doesn't help on top of the crappy day that I've had."

Noah rolled his eyes, "fuck Berry, why don't you just ask for my sympathy?"

"I'm being serious Noah!" she retorted, whilst frowning deeply at his choice of language. She thought for a second before adding, "Do I look like I'm from Kindergarten?"

At this, Noah burst out laughing, gaining the attention of many people nearby. When he'd finally calmed down, he leant closer to her, his elbows sliding over the bar, "some guy said that to you? You must have really pissed him off." His left eyebrow shot up, as if questioning her own actions in the story.

She shook her head instantly, prepared to argue her case. "I can assure you that I did absolutely nothing to provoke his harsh comments…except for maybe standing in the way of his bicycle."

Shrugging, Noah grabbed her drink and chugged a large amount down. "The guy sounds like a douche."

Taking the glass back, she gave him a warning stare, "yes, I believe so. I know a lot of guys that are like that…"

As usual, Noah picked up the hint in her voice and quickly knew what she was talking about. "Is your landlord treating you like shit again? I told you babe, I'll go down there and sort him out for you."

"Okay, there are three things wrong with the sentence," she began, throwing a glare at Noah, "your foul language which I feel like I'm mentioning in every conversation. Two, the fact that you called me 'babe' don't ever do that again! And your threat? How many times have I told you that violence is not the answer?"

"Fine, fine," he sighed loudly, then beginning to tease her. "You're no fun Berry."

She drowned a large amount of her drink. "No, I'm not. But that's what happens when you grow up. How about you try it some time?"

"Nah," he pulled a face, "tried it once, didn't work out. Anyway, I'm gonna be like that kid. What was his name? Peter something…"

"Peter Pan?"

"Yeah! That's it. And you can be my Tinkerbell. Those two so had it going on before the Wendy chick came in."

Rachel shook her head with disbelief, "I'm sorry. I didn't hear the last bit. The image of you in green tights is actually quite sickening yet difficult to ignore." Scrunching up her nose, she brushed aside his wink and pretended to be occupied with her drink whilst Noah served another customer. By the time he came back, it was completely gone.

He gestured to her empty glass, "Want another?" She pushed it forward, a silent yes. As he filled it, his eyes fell upon her slumped posture and miserable mood, "so, your landlord? What did the bastard say this time?"

She was hesitant for a second, but found herself bitterly replying. "He said that I have one week before he kicks me out. I may as well start packing…not that I can take much if I'm going to be living on the streets."

"I told you," Noah said, uncharacteristically in a sincere voice, "you can stay with me. You could sleep on the sofa."

Through a forced smile, she said, "thanks Noah, but I don't think that your Neanderthal roommates like me very much and I wouldn't want to do anything to ruin your friendship with them. I'll be fine…I'll just try harder to find a job."

There was a pause. "Berry, you've been looking for over a year. You can't do it in seven days."

"I can!" she said, a little too loudly, "I _hope_ that I can. Anything is possible." Noah didn't seem convinced. He passed her back the now full glass and watched as nearly half of it disappeared before his eyes.

"You've gotta pay for that one," he said, adding a fake smile.

"You've got to be kidding me!" she shot back, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out her purse which was, _surprisingly_, empty.

She watched as Noah stood with a stony expression, finally sighing and rolling his eyes, "fine, I'll just put it on my tab. Like usual."

"Thank you," Rachel said gratefully.

"Whatever," he mumbled, catching sight of his watch, "looks like my shift is over and el puckerone has a date tonight. And 'cause I feel sorry for leaving you in this depressed state, you can have one more drink on me, _one_ more drink. See you Berry." He picked up his jacket, swinging it over his shoulder and heading to the door, winking at her before he left.

Her sudden loneliness brought back the night's memories, from the conversation in her apartment to almost getting knocked over by that bicycle. And the she felt angry again, finding it hard to dismiss said anger without Puck's carefree attitude around. This remained as she took her usual seat in the far corner and, furthermore, it stayed as she drowned herself in alcohol, welcoming he burn at her throat. Each empty glass put her one step away from her rent money. She didn't care. Her landlord could go screw himself if he thought that she was going to pay up so easily. As if he needed the money urgently! Sure, she hadn't paid for a few weeks, but he wasn't exactly poor, owning many apartments around the area. Rachel knew that, with the right attitude around him, she could bribe a few more weeks out of the old man. After all, she'd done it before.

Unsteadily holding the glass in her hands, she forced it upon her lips and gulped down the liquid, which no longer tasted of anything to her. It fell back down to the table, shattering over the surface in a piercing second. Shocked, she stood up and tried to keep balance. Clearly, with the amount she'd drank, it was an impossible task and she was soon stumbling back towards her seat. One of the workers had taken notice of her and attempted to "escort" her off the premises.

"But I'm not drunk!" she declared stubbornly, "you're just being sexist!" Her finger was pointed accusingly at him as she spoke, almost spat out the words, "you're one of them. You're all making my life hell. All of you!" Now her attention was turned on the rest of the people, who ignored her and, if they did look, it was one of pity or disgust.

* * *

He happily rode around the city. Finn knew that some people considered it strange but, on his days off, he would just ride his bicycle endlessly, seeing the sights and feeling the cold city air rush against his skin. Not to mention how beneficial his hours of cycling had been to his now powerful leg muscles and great stamina. Today, the city was as beautiful as ever. He loved it here, ever since moving to take on role as CEO in his dad's company. His dad, however, had passed away a few years ago, and he became the full time manager of the company. Finn felt powerful but also lonely, always lonely. People only saw him for his job or the money that he had when, truly, he sometimes wanted to know what it would feel like to have nothing at all. Then people would like him for him. He knew that it would be much easier to find a girlfriend that way and stop his mother pestering him about it.

Looking down at his second hand clothes (commonly used for this day off) he smiled at how ordinary he appeared. That was exactly the way he liked it. Ordinary. Slowing down slightly, he turned the corner to take a shortcut through the alley, realising that maybe it was time to go home. Somewhere off in the distance, he picked up the sound of a dumpster being hit and moved forward with caution_. It was probably just some homeless dude looking for food_, he thought, trying to calm himself. Yet, the second time it seemed much fiercer, especially when the gruff voice came beside it. "I said, give me your money."

"I don't have any," the words were slow, slurred and he was sure that he recognised the voice, even if the person was clearly drunk. Stepping from his bicycle with ease, he placed it against the wall and neared the corner, poking his head around the wall. Surely enough, the same girl from hours ago was, forced up against the dumper by a filthy man wielding a knife. He held it shakily, inches away from her face. As he watched the scene, unsure of what to do, the girl looked, well, she didn't look like she was scared or frightened, nor was she sporting a brave face. She just stood there…doing nothing. There was no time to dwell on her as the man managed to inch closer again, forcing the rusty blade nearer her skin.

"You're lying!" he told her angrily.

She shook her head, "get off me! Or I swear that I'll press charges." Unfortunately for her, the words didn't come out as threatening as hoped and he just laughed in response. Noticing a discarded pipe, Finn picked it up and held it firmly in his hands before advancing behind the man. His steps were slow and shaky, his heart pumping wilding underneath his ribcage.

"Oh no sweetheart, by the time I'm done with you, you-"

In an instant, Finn forced down the hard pipe to the back of his head, causing the man to fall to the floor in a heap. He heard a sharp intake of breathe from the girl before locking his eyes onto her bewildered ones. He raised up his hand slightly, confused when she flinched. Following her gaze, he saw that the pipe was still in his firm grasp and dropped it with a loud clatter of the metal. They stood for a moment, frozen. What was he supposed to say? He didn't know anything about her. "Err…are you alright?"

There was a tense moment between the two before her enter body noticeably stiffened and her lips locked together tightly as she glared at him. "I'm fine." Her bitter words were followed with a storm off, one which didn't have quite the impact she'd hoped for. Instead, her uncoordinated muscles let her fall to the cold ground in an embarrassing trip. Finn was immediately by her side, lifting her up as gently as possible which was easy considering how little the girl weighed. Her limbs hung towards the ground as he noticed she was unconscious.

"Great," he muttered to himself, hoisted her in his arms. The smell of alcohol on her was almost unbearable. Somehow, he managed to push his bicycle whilst carrying her down the street until they reached his apartment. His dog Jerry, named from his love of Ben and Jerry ice cream, ran up excitedly as he entered the door, jumping up and down. "Shh," Finn said, patting the dog's head and then moving to the guest bedroom. As he carefully placed her onto of the silk covers, he took the time to get a better look at her now that it was no longer dark. He thought that she was quite beautiful, in spite of her worryingly thin appearance. Her skin, though freezing cold at that moment, was soft and a wonderful brown colour, one that most girls yearned for, making him think that she was of Italian heritage. She had thick brown hair that brushed down her back in silky waves, curling softly at the ends. And, above everything, he remembered her eyes. Even though she'd been angry when he'd insulted her, her eyes were so rich and wide that he'd been immediately drawn, like rich chocolate, the taste of which he could never get enough of. She stirred slightly when Jerry nipped at her fingertips and Finn grabbed his dog by the collar, forcing him into the living room. He was about to go there himself when he thought of the girl and her stench of alcohol. Grabbing a bucket from his kitchen, he placed it beside the bed where, hopefully, she would find it in the morning.

Stretching his long arms into the air, he sighed and sat in his father's old armchair, which had been positioned directly in front of the TV set. Jerry loyally sat beside him, sitting up proudly. Finn couldn't say how many times he'd come home to this mundane activity, not bothering to make any change in the routine. What was the point? He thought about what would happen if somebody had seen him "attack" the other man and hoped that, if they had, they didn't phone the police. That man had deserved it! He was about to hurt the girl and his mother had always taught him that there was no excuse to hit a girl. If only she was here now… Maybe she could guide him to the right decision regarding the mysterious brunette. He feared the morning when she woke up, especially since she'd most likely be sporting an intense hangover. Chances are that her mood would be much, much worse than it was this afternoon.

A strained sound escaped his lips as he stretched once more, his heavy eyelids drooping ever so slightly. He jerked himself away. It was strange: he had no idea who this girl was but here he was, staying awake all night to make sure that she was safe and protected. He even tried convincing himself that it was because he'd been brought up to do such a thing, however, he knew that with any other girl he probably would allow himself a few hours of sleep. What was going on? Heading to the kitchen, he began making a coffee, preparing himself for the love night ahead.

* * *

Her head was banging, throbbing with pain in a steady beat. Groaning, she rolled onto her side. Not a good idea. The next second, she felt the overwhelming sensation to throw up and her eyes flew open as she searched for the bathroom. In all honesty, she didn't realise that she wasn't in her apartment, still scanning for somewhere to be sick in. Beside the bed, she found a bucket, to which she decided was good enough in which to puke her guts out and felt a little bit better afterwards, laying on the bed. "Shit!" she shot straight up when it finally hit her that she was somewhere else…in somebody else's bed. She hadn't gone home with anybody last night, not that she remembered anyway. She didn't even remember leaving the bar. Rubbing her aching temples, she tried to assess the situation. Rachel knew that she had to leave here, somehow without the person knowing. Maybe she could sneak out (hopefully they were showering or something) and forget about this whole thing.

Standing up, which again caused her a somewhat large amount of stomach upset, she headed nearer the door. As she opened it, the hinges creaked slightly, ruining her 'don't attract attention' plan. When the gap was big enough, she glanced at the room outside, seeing a large hallway, across from which was a glass door heading into what looked like the living room. And, down the hallway, she saw what appeared to be the front door. Tiptoeing, she quickly reached it, turning the handle and finding herself stumped when it hardly rattled, never mind opening the door. She tried again, before letting out a desperate squirm.

"It's locked," she spun around when she heard the voice, flattening herself against the door. She _knew_ it. The man from yesterday was staring at her, no, _smiling_. In his right hand, he spun the keys around his finger, "how about some breakfast?"

"Let me out!" she insisted, "It's illegal to keep someone against their will." Finn walked through the doors into the living room, ignoring her shouting. "Hey, where are you going? Are you even listening to me?" Proceeding to _not_ listen to the girl, he whistled to himself before walking through into the kitchen. She followed after, angrily yelling but soon trailed off as she glanced around the apartment, which was lavished with rich furniture and gadgets.

The open window caught her sight and she practically ran over, standing on the edge of it whilst staring down at the city below her. His eyes widened when he noticed her and reached out toward her small body. "Get down! Are you crazy?" She smacked at his hands, further moving toward the edge. The sight of the world beneath her caused a sickly dizziness (which didn't at all help with the hangover) but she held on firmly before facing the man with a stony expression.

"No!"

"This is my apartment! That's _my_ window. Come down or I'll make you come down."

"No," she growled, "open the damn door! You're being barbaric."

"I am? You're the one threatening to jump out of a window from the tenth floor!"

Insulted, she took the energy to send him her most evil glare, hoping that it would somehow cause him fear. "if you don't let me out of here, I swear I'll jump."

"Just climb down, please. You're going to fall."

She clenched her fists, remaining in the same position and keeping on a brave face: she didn't want him to see that she was more than terrified. "No, not until you let me out. Who do you think you are? Keeping me trapped in here!"

He had never known someone to overreact so much over a locked door.

Finn found his heart beating once more, or maybe that was the feeling of a premature heart attack. What was this girl thinking? They were ten floors up! If she jumped, she'd surely die and, if not, she was sure to be one lucky girl. Judging by the events yesterday, she was no such person. Jerry jumped wildly on his hind legs, barking at full volume as she waited for him to unlock the door. Unfortunately for her, he wasn't about to give in to her threats, despite how dangerous they appeared to be.

Anger was evident on Finn's face and his voice cracked as he yelled, "this is what I get for trying to help you? I could have left you, you know. Left you to be beaten up. But no, I had to be the fucking hero. And what do I get in return? This! Yeah, maybe I should have just walked away." Beginning to walk away, he cursed again at his own stupidity for bringing her back to the apartment. He didn't know what he'd expected, but definitely wasn't anticipating this scene.

"Jump," he replied quietly.

Astounded, she was at a loss for words. Eventually, she found her voice. "I-I'll do it."

"Go ahead then. Jump!" he threw his hands up in the air, "end your life because, you know what? The life that I saw you have yesterday isn't worth living." Rachel froze, completely shocked at what he'd just said. It was all so…_true_.

"You're right."

"What?"

She sighed, "I-everything you said. It's right." She wrapped her vulnerable self within her own arms and let her legs drop off the ledge. "My life is worthless…"

Finn knew that he'd stepped in it big time. "No, I didn't mean that. I was mad, okay? I err, please don't hate me. I'm sorry."

"What are you apologising for?" she looked in his direction, "it isn't your life that's screwed up.

For a moment, he found himself lost in her chocolate eyes, looking past the tears which blocked them quickly. Guilt quickly suffocated his chest, almost devouring him from within. She looked like a child, a child who'd accidentally fallen over and hurt themselves, but this was real pain. It was the sort of pain that you couldn't physically see, the pain that was just there and surrounding this one girl. He gently placed one of his oversized hands on her shoulder, glad when she placed her own hand over it. Her hand, unlike the night before, was finally warm yet still as soft. "Please close the window," she whispered to him, not moving her gaze from the wall ahead. Finn did as she asked and sat down beside her, unsure of what move to make next.

After what felt like the longest minute of his life, she spoke again. "Thank you," her eyes met his, watery and sad, "for not leaving me there." He felt his body finally relax, all of the tension that had built up slipping away with her words.

"No, it's fine. I mean, it would've been wrong to just leave you there because you were pretty out of it and the guy could've woke up at any moment. And then when you passed out, I kind of just picked you up and ended back here somehow…"

She was silent again, a thoughtful expression plastered over her features.

Finn slowly stood up, noticing how she watched his every movement and felt more self-conscious that ever. "Do you want that breakfast now?" The brunette nodded, awkwardly standing up after him. She followed hesitantly, feeling out of place in his apartment. Everything was just so clean and cut, certainly something that she would expect from a man who was supposedly living on his own. What if he had a girlfriend? Rachel didn't like that question very much and avoided answering. It was completely irrelevant anyway…

He turned, seeing that she'd stopped somewhere in the living room and smiled encouragingly at her. "Are you coming?"

Quickening her pace, she ended up right behind him, almost bumping into his large frame. It was then that she realised how tall he was, easily towering over her. Usually, she found it intimidating, but the way he carried his height made her feel…well, comfortable, like he was a big friendly giant (she smiled at this image). Hurriedly, she chased after him into the kitchen, which was just as magnificent as the rest of the apartment. As she came to stand beside him, she glanced up and actually smiled. Finn couldn't have been more shocked. "I'm Rachel," she told with a newfound confidence, "Rachel Berry."

He found himself smiling in return. _Of course_ she'd have a name like that! It suited her perfectly.

"Finn Hudson," was the nervous reply.

"Finn," he heard her whisper to herself. She liked B.F.G better…Maybe she could just call him that in secret.


	2. Coincidence or maybe something more?

As he made his own breakfast, he watched her eat from the corner of his eye. His earlier thoughts that she was one of those health conscious girls were swept away as she shovelled down the food as though she hadn't eaten in days. Her eyes slowly reached his, and he attempted to smile, before realising that she was now looking at something else. Still staring, he stood awkwardly, frowning when her mouth hung open slightly as if about to speak. This drew him to her lips for the first time, until he reluctantly forced himself to turn away: he didn't want her to think that he was some crazy stalker who just stared at her all the time.

"Finn," she spoke up, again her eyes following something to the side with interest, "you're burning your bacon."

_Crap_! he thought, pulling the pan off the stove to look at his pitiful burnt bacon which no longer smelled as heavenly as before. Despite that, he piled it onto his plate and joined her at the small table which had been pressed up against the bright yellow wall (his step-brother's decision, not his).Every sound suddenly sounded ten times louder than it normally would. The chair scraped against the floor in an unfriendly manner, creaking when he sat on it whilst the plate clattered messily on the table. He stuffed a piece of the bacon into his mouth before holding the plate toward Rachel. "Want some?" Due to the bacon, it sounded more like "wansom?" and left Rachel frowning with confusion, and also a little bit of disgust. It was never acceptable to speak with your mouth full.

Finn seemed to realise this, slightly late, and swallowed the chewy, black meat before repeating himself. Eyeing it as though it was going to attack her, she shook her head. "I'm vegan," she replied, before adding, "and Jewish…and, no offense, but it doesn't look that nice."

He laughed off her comment, already aware that his cooking skills were somewhat hindered and, honestly, he didn't blame her for refusing the pathetic excuse for bacon. Seeing the dog lying beside his chair, he placed the plate down on the floor, knowing that he'd eat the bacon despite it being charred.

"You're vegan?" he asked, sending her an apologetic smile, "I don't think that I could live without eating meat. I guess I must be a caveman." She gave off a nervous laugh, looking straight down at her mug of black coffee. Her fingers curled around the entire cup, absorbing each precious ounce of heat that escaped. "So, I suppose you're wondering _why_ I locked the front door…"

"Well, it did cross my mind," she rolled her eyes, "there better be a good reason. I have a lot to do today, okay?" Finn found himself shocked at her rather abrupt change in attitude. "And I don't take too kindly to be held against my will an-"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"…What?" she asked cautiously, unsure of whether she'd heard him correctly. Why would he want to talk to _her_? She was just some girl from Lima who had ran from everything, who was still hiding the past from herself. So many rejections had left her with the final belief that she wasn't with it, worth much anyway and so, understandably, was surprised when this man (who she didn't even know) was showing some sort of interest in her, even if it would be the tiniest little bit. She quickly hid her surprise with a broad smile, a trick that usually worked. "What did you want to know?" Her voice was nonchalant, but there was a needy tone about her words.

"I wanted to know…" he began, not looking at her but instead at the table,"…how did you end up in the state that you were last night? Don't take it the wrong way!" He covered up quickly when her eyebrows furrowed, forehead creasing softly, "but you don't seem like the type of person to be so drunk. Well, actually, I think you were beyond drunk. That's not the point. The point is…just why?"

"I don't think you'd understand…" she tried to brush the subject away. Instantly, she winces at what she'd said. She'd just confirmed his suspicions that something was wrong when they weren't. She didn't have any problems…nothing that she couldn't deal with anyway. Everything was under control, albeit a very stressful control. It was a control, of a sort, nonetheless. And who was he to talk about it? He didn't even know her and his curiosity angered her, if only a little.

He gave a slow, drawn out nod and his eyes pierced straight at her, "I don't, but I know why people drink and I've seen what it can do to them… After everything that I've ever seen, I couldn't just let you walk out of here without telling you that, whatever problems you have, it's not worth throwing your life away."

She was astonished by the amount of wisdom he'd drawn up, especially at seeing how young he looked (twenty at the latest) But the truth scared her. It made her admit that her life was screwed up and feel utterly helpless. "I-I don't have any problems and I'm sorry that you seem to think so." Each syllable was harsh as she forced them out, her mouth moulding into a snarl.

Clearly, he didn't believe her and carried on talking. "It's okay. That's what everyone says. I just want you to think about the damage that this could be having on your life. You could have trouble with family members (her heart clenched at this) or lose your job (the feeling returned, stronger and more harmful) and then you'd probably lose where you live (she turned from his, lip quivering) and you don't want that, do you?" He gave her a small, reassuring smile that worked to the opposite of his intentions.

Now feeling terrible, she leant forward on the table and tried not to let him see her internal breakdown. Her pride was getting in the way of her receiving any help and she hated it, despised it with a fiery passion.

What could she say in reply? He'd just told her what would happen if she carried on drinking; only, he was a few years too late.

"Are you alright?"

_No_

"I'm fine," she pressed.

"Are you crying?" he frowned, instantly feeling slightly guilty: he always hated to make people cry, especially girls. She shook her head in reply, wiping furiously at her eyes to stop the build-up of tears. "Yes you are."

More agitated, she snapped, "I'm not!" He flinched back in his chair, wondering if he could say anything right around this girl. She regretted shouting and looked up at him apologetically, "I'm sorry. I haven't really had a good couple of weeks." _Or couple of years._ "I didn't mean to shout at you." She began to stand up, pushing the half empty mug of coffee forward, "thank you Finn, but I really need to get going."

He didn't move.

She waited patiently, or as patiently as she could be, for him to do something, say something. All that he did was stare straight back at her, his eyes narrowing at her. It was unnerving and awkward and she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other whilst fighting the urge to shout at him again. "Could you _please_ unlock the door?" she said through clenched teeth, wanting to get away. To run, like always.

"I'm trying to help you," he said quietly, "I've seen this before and it sucks, I know, but you can't keep using alcohol to hide."

"What do you know about my life?" she asked, a look of disgust on her face, "you know nothing about me! All you can do is make preconceptions on the events that you saw yesterday when I can assure you that my life isn't as pathetic and broken as you seem to believe. Now, are you going to open the door or am I going to have to get those keys off you myself?" She was doing her best to be threatening though normally it would work, or so she was told. Apparently her ferocity was greater than most people's, an aspect of her personality that she was very thankful for.

If he was intimidated, he was hiding it well and calmly stood up so that his full height was over her and took slow steps in her direction. "No," he began, "I don't know one thing about you, well, except for the fact that you get drunk, _really_ drunk, you're vegan and Jewish, and you have one hell of a temper. I can be an idiot sometimes, but I'm not stupid enough to let you go out there and do it all over again."

"But I'm not going to. Last night was a glitch. I'm not some stupid alcoholic who's given up on everything." That's exactly what she thought she was.

"I want to know that you'll be alright!"

"Why do you care?" she asked, or more demanded from him, throwing her hands into the air. "I mean nothing to you. And I don't care, honestly. Can't you just do what everyone else does and ignore me? Why do you have to be nice? No one is making you." She turned on her heel, stomping her feet as she stormed toward the door.

He shook his head. "Are you saying it's wrong to care about another person?"

"No," she looked over her shoulder, "it's not wrong. Just…don't care about _me_. You'll be wasting your time." Once more, she returned to the door, fumbling with the lock whilst her anger increased, "Ugh, what the hell is wrong with this thing?"

"It's locked, "he reiterated, earning an eye roll from her. "Give me five minutes, okay? Five minutes and then you can go."

"Five minutes?" she questioned curiously, thinking of what he could possibly do in that time. He nodded in reply, making her sigh, "fine."

She sat down on the sofa to which he gestures, as far away from him as possible, and waited for him to speak again. As he sat too, he bit his lip, appearing to be thinking hard again, his face clouded with confusion and worry. "Be careful."

"What?" she frowned? That was it? And what on Earth was it supposed to mean?

"Please just…" he looked away, running his hand through his hair whilst at a loss for words. After a few more seconds of struggling, he finally proceeded, "don't let it ruin your life because my dad did and now he's dead. I don't like the thought of anyone else having to go through it." Rachel felt guilty at the idea that she'd opened old wounds for him, causing a lot of hurt. "And don't give me that crap about not having a problem. He did, for four years and…fuck, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Just, don't do anything you'll regret, please."

The look in his eyes, the desperation and sadness, had her frozen. Her mouth hung as she scrutinized his face and watched for his to say something else as his words felt unfinished. The silence was becoming unbearable, more so considering how much she hated silence in the first place but also with him looking on the verge of tears. She sighed, holding onto his arm, "look Finn, I appreciate the concern but you shouldn't worry about me. Concentrate on your own life. I don't want to see a nice guy like you get hurt over someone like me."

"Someone like you?" he questioned.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Like me. You don't want to get involved in my life. It's too," she pulled a face, "_messy_."

"I could…help you," he said with an optimistic smile.

Again, she felt terrible for having to say no but she'd never needed anyone's help before and she didn't need any now. "I don't really feel like being your charity case…"

He shook his hands, "I didn't mean it like that. It just sounds like you're going through a rough time and I thought that I could help you in some way. I don't want you as a charity case." Frowning, he hoped that he hadn't offended her. "It would just be something nice for a fellow human being," he added hopefully.

Now she gave out a long sigh, her lips pursing together in an unsteady line before she got to her feet. "You're a really sweet guy Finn, but I have to decline. It's for the best. "

For once, he didn't argue or try to convince her otherwise, despite being in the firm belief that she needed help, even if it was a friend and reached for the keys in his breast pocket before slowly opening the door. They froze in another awkward position, each feeling that they should say something, anything. "Well, see you around."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly, "take care of yourself Rach." Leaning on the door frame, he watched as she gave a small smile and nod, and then walked down the corridor, glancing around for a lift. His gaze lingered helplessly as she sent a wave in his direction and stepped inside, leaving him to question whether he'd done the right thing.

* * *

She found herself running back to her apartment.

She was always running.

The rain, falling heavily against the floor, didn't bother her in the slightest and her soaked clothes were no more a burden that the rain. Reaching her apartment hall, she was welcomed with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke, to which she scrunched her nose up at whilst she felt the familiar urge to throw up again. Once inside, she let herself fall down on the ancient sofa and rubbed her forehead to try and dull the pain. (It didn't work) She felt terrible. Not only because of her worse than usual hangover but the very idea that she'd never see Finn Hudson again. He _cared_, like, really, genuinely cared about her wellbeing, which is more than she could say about some people. It was torturing her that she'd just fled the one person who could have been her saviour.

…_could_ have been.

The harsh reality was beginning to sink in again, in turn causing her stomach to sink with disappointment and regret. She always had to find a way to dismiss the potentially good things in her life, had to let her pride get the better of her and escalate the problems in ways that even she didn't know possible. The little voice in the back of her head was asking what could have happened if she'd stayed? She knew exactly what. She'd get attached to him, grow dependent on his kind nature and generous offers, all at the same time as suffocating him with desperation. He'd pretend that he was fine because he wouldn't want to hurt her feelings. Rachel knew this, she wasn't stupid…merely an idiot. And she also knew that, one day, he'd have enough and recoil his outstretched hand of help, leaving her exactly where she was today.

Screwed

That was the outcome in spite of the paths she chose and, because of this, she'd rather just ruin her own life instead of succeeding in doing the same to somebody who seemed to be in a good place in life at that moment. Rachel Berry was a lot of things, but she wasn't selfish. Or at least, not to an extent.

The clattering on the tenant above her echoed throughout the apartment and she let out a groan, hurrying off to her bedroom. Popping two of her trusty sleeping pills into her mouth, she crawled under the covers and pulled them tightly around her. The material was too thin to offer her any real warmth, but it was comforting despite so, like the covers were embracing her in a hug.

Soon, the pills would kick in and she could finally fall into a restful sleep. It was too early to do so, she knew. She should have been looking for a job that day, but that would have to wait. Something had to be out there for her, anything. Her eyes began to close but her mind was still active though, not for long.

She thought of Finn, his dog and his sweet little apartment with the bright yellow wall. Maybe it could have turned out differently. If she didn't have these problems, she could have stayed. No, _would_ have.

* * *

Only a few miles away, Finn too was debating his decision or more punishing himself for it.

Why had he left her? She could get hurt and he won't be able to help her. Clearly, she'd had problems, problems that were too bad to admit to a stranger but, as he'd said, he could have helped. Was the suggestion of it too much? Had she thought that he'd intended more than a friendship?

When Finn asked himself that question, he realised guiltily that, yes, that's exactly what he was hoping for. Not a relationship but just…something and he felt horrible for it. Especially since…he couldn't even say it in his own mind! It pained him to admit that he felt attracted to Rachel, even when she was so broken. If she'd been happy and problem-free, how intense would it have been then?

The thought was too much to bear.

He took Jerry for a walked, hoping, praying that he'd accidentally run into her again. He anxiously walked through the alleyway where he'd found her yesterday doing so. Why was he doing this? She was just a girl. An ordinary girl.

But, she wasn't.

Not at all.

At least not to him. After all, the girl did threaten to jump out of the window if he didn't let her out of the apartment. As scary as it was at the time, he realised that she wouldn't do it. It was an empty threat, revealing her desperation. He wanted to know exactly why she was like that, what had caused her to act like that. He'd seen her other side, when she was kind and had even honoured him with a smile… The image of it was still fresh in his mind: her bright white teeth; the way that her eye lit up alongside the smile and the warmth that radiated from her on that rare occasion. Finn would be lying if he said that he hadn't been drawn to it. But he couldn't think like that…he shouldn't. Not about Rachel.

After an hour of looking, he decided to call an end to his search and headed home.

Opening the door, he was met by another voice, the voice of somebody that he was not in the mood to talk to at all.

"Where have you been Finn? I told you that I'd be here at three exactly and it's now," he checked his watch, "three forty three. It's a good thing that I know where you put your spare key or else I wouldn't be acting as nice as I am now." His step-brother, Kurt, placed his hands on his hips and shot him a glare.

Rolling his eyes, he resisted the urge to groan as he took Jerry's leash off. The dog ran up to Kurt, jumping up excitedly at him and barking loudly. "Shush boy!" Finn raised his voice at him, causing him to run away with a tiny whimper. He then looked to Kurt, who was impatiently tapping his foot, "sorry that I was late, okay? I had…other things to do."

His words were dismissed with an overdramatic wave of the hand, "that doesn't matter right now. We're got a lot of planning ahead of us."

Finn sighed, "Do we have to do it now? I'm not in the mood right now." He took a seat on his sofa, stretching out his long legs before turning to Kurt once again. A gasp escaped the man's mouth as he came to stand in front of him, arms folding tightly across his chest.

"Get off your lazy butt and help me Finn."

"No," he replied stubbornly, his eyes casting themselves at the window for yet more memories.

Kurt waved his hand in front of Finn's face, obviously irritated, "look, I don't know why you're acting like a child but you should be thankful that I'm here to help. Nobody in the whole of New York is as good as I am at this."

"I know," Finn said in a dull tone. As much as he hated to admit it, Kurt was the best and it also helped that they were related, meaning that there had to be a family discount in it somewhere. He just didn't want to deal with his overenthusiastic planning talk right at that moment, when he felt drained and unhappy, something which usually didn't happen to him at all. He watched Kurt, who delved into his bag to pull out at least twenty magazines. _What have I got myself into?_ He asked himself.

When he'd finally managed to get Kurt to leave, after another small argument, Finn found himself on his laptop. He finished what work he could, finding it hard to concentrate, and ended up on the internet.

Curiously, he typed her name into the search bar, wondering of whether he'd be able to find out anything more so, if they ever met again, he would know more than three facts about her. His fingers hovered over the enter button, a torn expression ever-present on his face. Finally, he pressed the button. Feeling anxious, he tapped lightly on his keyboard, watching the little loading bar slowly grow. It took a while, due to the bad connection he got in the apartment, but the page finally appeared in front of him and he eagerly went to read it. Turns out, there was more to her than he'd initially suspected.

And now he knew more than three things about her.

She had been in Julliard before unexpectedly dropping out.

She was on Broadway for the most of two weeks before being fired. It didn't give a reason for that, again adding to his curiosity. He had hoped that there was some indication as to where she lived so that he could go and talk some sense into her but there wasn't anything.

Finn felt slightly guilty for searching for her this way, as he was more than aware that it was border-lining stalker behaviour, but he knew that he'd feel much worse if anything happened to her knowing that he could have helped.

If he could turn back time, he knew that he wouldn't have let her leave the apartment, no matter what she threw his way.

* * *

It was four in the morning when Rachel finally woke up, the sheets now strangling her body. Shivering, she got out of bed and grabbed a new set of clothes, the ones which she thought to be the smartest and she _needed_ to make a good impression on her interviews that day.

She had a cold shower, before getting into her clothes. The moon shone through her bedroom window, the only light that she could use, whilst she tried to fix her hair up properly. It put up a fight and took her nearly an hour to get right, leading her up to five am. Rachel was usually up at this time, always having been a morning person, and used the time to leisurely look through the interviews that she had today. It was lucky that she'd managed to get any at all, seeing at many people didn't want to put up with a college dropout, but thankfully one of her friends had put in a good word for her at a karaoke bar. The other interview was seemingly just down to good luck, being in the right place at the right time and she was extremely thankful for it, especially seeing how much the job paid.

And, since the interview wasn't until nine, she had at least two hours to prepare for it.

She didn't want to get nervous because that just wasn't her. When she'd wanted to be a huge Broadway star, she'd convinced herself that nerves were only for insecure people and she wasn't insecure. No, she was going to be bold, confident and optimistic.

* * *

"So, Miss Berry, what qualifications do you have? It says here that you don't have anything beyond High School."

Rachel frowned slightly, and then forced the smile back onto her face. She didn't like the way that this woman was talking to her, but there wasn't exactly anything that she could do about that right now.

"Well," she began," I actually had a full scholarship to Julliard b-"

"But you never finished," the woman cut across bluntly with a look of displeasure spreading along her features, "is there any particular reason for that?"

Avoiding the beady stare, Rachel reluctantly answered, "there was a problem at home and I didn't have a choice but to leave."

"And this problem was?"

"That's a rather personal question," she shot back to the woman, narrowing her eyes. She could already tell that she wasn't getting this job.

"Though necessary I'm afraid, Miss Berry. You see, at this company, we don't like quitters and if it turns out that you left your college because of some measly little excuse, I doubt that the boss would be happy." She picked up her pen and gave a fake smile toward Rachel, "I'm waiting for the reason."

She didn't want to answer at all, already feeling the tears. It was strange, she thought, that she'd cried so many times in the expanse of just two days, more so than she had for a while. Getting ready to put the woman in her place, she inwardly prepared a speech and set her stony gaze on her. The woman wasn't going to know what hit her.

The door to the side opened, a man quickly rushing in with a coffee in one hand and a briefcase in the other. "Sorry I'm late," he muttered, turning to face them both. Rachel froze, her mind going completely blank. He did the same, though somehow finding the words, "Rach?"

"Finn, you…you work here?"


	3. A helping hand

The woman, startled for a moment, glanced from Rachel to Finn before standing up. "I-I was just explaining our company policy to Miss Berry sir," she leant closer, "and between you and me, I don't think she's company material." Finn ignored the woman completely, never having liked her snobbish attitude and looked straight at Rachel with a smile.

"She can have the job."

"What? But sir, I don't think you've thought this through. She's a-"

"It's not up for discussion Hilda. She _has_ the job as of now," he said adamantly.

Rachel, still dumbfound, smiled slightly at Hilda's reaction, seeing the woman clearly baffled by the brash actions of Finn. She nodded once before picking up her things and leaving the room. The two shared an awkward glare before Finn tried to "break the ice" with a nervous few words, "I hope she didn't give you that much of a hard time."

She shook her head instantly in reply, "nothing that I couldn't handle. I'm used to people like her." His gaze remained on her, as if she was a beautiful picture that he was observing. "Err, "she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, "thank you Finn. You don't know how much I appreciate this." He'd basically just handed her a lifeline. If it hadn't have been for his surprise entrance, she would've insulted to the woman to every degree possible and probably ended up being dragged out, not so nicely, by security. It wouldn't be the first time…

He gave a shy smile, "it's nothing." Whilst he paused, staring at the floor, she glanced around at the room, trying to find anything to look at but him. The tension was growing again, suffocating them both. "I'm sorry about yesterday," he began, clearing his throat. "I was being an idiot."

Her eyes locked onto his. "You weren't! Honestly. You were just showing your kind and generous nature, as you've just done again. You're a very chivalrous man Finn and, "she paused, "since we're going to be working together, I want you to know how grateful I am. For the job and just everything." She nodded to herself, smiling at him.

Finn knew that he liked to make her smile. He _liked_ her smile. He realised that she was waiting for him to say something else and not just stare at her. "I..err, do you want me to show you around?"

"Sure," she shrugged slightly, picking up her coat and following him through the door where Hilda had vanished to. The offices that they walked through were all busy, people buzzing around like flies. She noticed that the people seemed to separate as Finn made his way by them, most adding an enthusiastic, "hello sir!" In reply, Finn would give them a curt nod and a dashing smile.

Eventually, they ended up inside his office.

"And this," he gestured around the room, "is where I work."

"Where all the magic happens?" she joked, glancing around his extremely spacious office. To the left, a wide window led onto a view of the entire city, drawing Rachel into it. She placed her hands on the glass, dreamily watching below. Behind her, she could feel Finn hovering nearby and smiled absently. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes," he agreed quickly, "but…full of bad memories."

"I know what you mean. When I was little, I always wanted to live here. To be a star," she laughed to herself, "but this life isn't all it's made out to be. Now I just think that things would have been better if I'd just stayed. "Finn nodded in understanding, going to take a seat at his chair. She turned, leaning against the window as she spoke to him.

He knew what she meant, what it was like for naïve dreams to be taken away and for reality to seep in. He'd been there before and could empathise with those in that position. "So," he started in a surprisingly upbeat voice," where're you from Rach?"

Instead of answering his question, she gave him a strange look, her lips parting as he eyes narrowed too, "why do you keep calling me Rach?"

"Do you not like it?" his cheeks flushed slightly, feeling embarrassed.

She was quick to respond, "oh no. It's just that nobody's ever called me that before. I've had nicknames but not really any nice ones. It's usually Manhands or Rupaul."

He frowned, "so I _can_ call you Rach?"

"Yes," she said a little too happily and immediately went to tone down her chipper mood. Returning to his earlier question, she took a few steps forward, "and I'm from Lima Ohio. You probably don't know it…" It was true. Most of the people she'd met in New York hadn't even a clue that Lima existed, not that she blamed them. She had always thought that it was a boring old cow town with nothing to gain and everything to lose.

"Know it? My brother used to live there. I've been loads of times.

"He did?" she questioned curiously, "what was his name? Maybe I know him." She wondered why she was so eager to know, maybe wanting something desperately to connect her to Finn somehow.

"He's Kurt Hummel. I don't think you know him. He went to an all boy school somewhere," he frowned, "I don't remember what it's called."

She was quick to reply, "Dalton Academy .Both of my fathers attended. It's supposed to be a very good school." His face scrunched up with confusion: she'd just said _both_ of her fathers. Did that mean her real dad and her step-dad or literally both her dads, which he was sure was impossible. Rachel, sensing Finn's lack of understanding, swooped in with an explanation, "I had two gay dads."

The confusion returned. "Had?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Yes. Had," she said sadly, turning away from him once again, "they…died." And then she looked straight at him, something which he found more uncomfortable than her glancing away meekly, due to the intense look plaguing her eyes, "it was a hate crime. Lima isn't exactly the most gay friendly town out there."

Finn sat silently for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. Should he say something comforting? Or change the subject? After all, he didn't want to offend her, which he was sure he was going to do some way or another, but hopefully not in this situation. He stuck with the typical response, his mouth dry as he said, "I'm sorry. I know how much it hurts."

She smiled sadly to herself, "don't be. It wasn't your fault…just some drunk, homophobic idiots."

Still frozen to his seat, he found that his frown deepened into his face, and he felt angrier at the people who had hurt Rachel in this way, in possibly one of the worst imaginable ways. He did know how it felt to have a parent snatched away, the sense of being unable to cope or the persistent sadness that followed and he'd only lost _one_ parent, not both of them and certainly not at the same time. She walked slowly, solemnly away from the window, her eyes idly casting over the pictures on the wall.

The tears in her eyes were easy enough to wipe from her eyes…if only memories put up so little of a fight as the tears, then maybe she'd be able to get on with her life, no matter how unlucky she thought herself to be. Her chest felt as though it was clenching tighter with each second and she resisted the urge to cry out loudly, especially since Finn was barely four foot from her. Absently, her fingers reached over the spot where her heart was and fiddled with the material of her shirt.

"Rachel?" Finn asked in a worried voice, finally being able to stand up without his legs crumbling beneath him. Stepping closer to the girl, he held out one of his hands, feeling that they may be too oversized and freakish to be of any comfort of her yet proceeding to place it on her shoulder anyway. Wiping at her eyes, she turned to give him a watery smile.

"Look at me," she announced, trying to muster back some form of composure, "I'm not exactly making a good impression, am I?"

He wasn't sure whether to reply of not. Instead he cleared him throat and said, "do you…want me to walk you home?"

Shaking her head quickly, she responded, "oh no! I mean, don't feel like you need to. I'll be fine. I only live a few blocks away anyway and maybe I could benefit from the walk alone." Feeling slightly disheartened, he didn't try to persuade her. As a thank you, she gave him a small kiss on the cheek and silently left the room. When there was a knock, he'd half hoped that she'd accidentally left something and was returning to retrieve it, but then he saw Mercedes walk in with a coffee. She wore her usual wide smile, or at least the one used when she was on the pursuit of gossip. "Hey Finn." Mercedes, along with a few other members of staff, was one of the only people that called him by his actual name in the whole building. Not that being called 'sir' was bad, but it became rather annoying after a while.

He took the hot drink from her and drank a large gulp to fill in the silence. "Hi," he mumbled back, rubbing his eyes as he usually did when he could feel stress coming on. The things that irked him the most about it was that he didn't actually know why he was stressed. Had he done anything to offend Rachel? He didn't think so, although…making her cry, unintentionally or not, wasn't the best thing that could have happened.

Finn noticed that Mercedes was still anticipating a reply. "Yes?" he pretended to be clueless.

"Who was that girl?" she asked, sitting on the side of his desk.

"Just a new staff member," Finn said casually, "why do you seem so interested in her?"

Her smile broadened across her face, "_I_ didn't get a tour of your office when _I_ first started working here."

"Must have slipped my mind," he shrugged.

"…she was pretty. Maybe a little small, too skinny, but still pretty."

"I didn't notice."

"Like hell you didn't," Mercedes dramatically moved her hands to her hips," _you_ were enthralled Mr Hudson."

"Thanks for telling me." By now, he had taken a place at his desk, skimming over the papers that made a layer over the wood. He heard her huff, before tutting to herself. "I was just trying to be friendly, okay? She's been through a lot."

Her brows furrowed, "how did you so much about her?"

"We've met before," he said simply, "and no, not on a date." Mercedes opened her mouth to speak again when he questioned, "Don't you have work to do?"

"Fine," she declared, "you're hopeless Finn." That was all that she had said to him, not even a goodbye, before she'd stormed from the room. Finn had much preferred Rachel's way of saying goodbye and could still feel the pair of soft lips on his cheek. He stopped himself from any further thoughts, knowing full well that he couldn't let himself think like that.

…

When she finally got home, Rachel sat on the tattered sofa, completely still as to absorb the day's events.

She'd got a job.

But, that job was working as the secretary for a guy who she not only owed her life, but who knew more than she'd ever told anyone before, except perhaps Noah.

And the fact that she had only about four days left to pay her landlord or she'd be on the streets. Then that would lead to her losing her job and the vicious circle would commence.

How was she supposed to ask Finn for her pay check before she'd hardly done any work and without him knowing whether he'd get it back? Sure, he wouldn't exactly _need_ it, but she hated the thought of being in debt to someone twice.

On the other hand though, she had a job! And soon, money! How long had she been trying? Rachel realises again, that she really owed Finn so much, and she'll only met him two days ago. Sitting in a sudden erect posture, she knew that she would have to repay him one day, deciding to make a start by baking him something. Baking, along with singing, was one of her talents, and it would be a step in the right direction of repayment.

Despite having only been back for a grand total of ten minutes, she grabbed her coat and hurried out of the door, almost running into a man on her way. Scrambling through her pockets, she found no sign or money. How was she supposed to back something for Finn with no ingredients, or money to get them?

Noah! For once she made the regular trip to the bar without feeling that horrible emotion of sadness. Instead, she cheerily greeted Noah at the bar however his welcoming was less warm. "Look Berry, I'm not serving you anymore. James told me how he had to drag your pissed arse out of here the other night. And you had more than one drink on my tab. I had to work overtime to pay it off!"

She felt guilty, _really _guilty. "Are you angry at me?" As he almost smashed a glass from slamming it on the shelf, she winced.

"No, I'm furious. What kind of shit are you pulling Berry?"

"Noah, I'm so sorry. But I'm going to pay you back every last cent."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" his frown was still deep and eyes penetrating.

"I found a job!"

He paused, "Oh really?

"Yes," she put on her award winning smile, though hushed her voice, "but I need to borrow ten dollars." All the anger apparently had gone and he began to laugh loudly, drawing the attention of the other clients.

"What for?"

"I'm making brownies," she said, sounding like a child.

He pointed a finger at her, still laughing to himself, "you're crazy. What the hell do you need brownies for?"

"For my boss," she explained, "as a thank you for hiring me."

"And there I was thinking that they were going to be for me," he pretended to be offended.

"You can have one then! Can I please just borrow the money?"

He took it from his back pocket, "one? How insulting!"

"Fine then. Two!" she sighed, reaching for it before he pulled it away.

"Then again," he smirked, "I am pretty hungry."

"So, three? That's a deal…"

"I suppose so," he loosened the grip on the note, allowing her to take it, "bu-"

"Thank you, thank you," she cut across quickly. Once the money was safe in her purse, she smiled at him, "I'll see you tomorrow then!"

…

By the time Finn left work, it was dark in the city. And, because his car had broken down, he had to walk back home, despite how tired he was. Hilda, one of his co-workers was still angry at him for "embarrassing her intentionally" in front of Rachel, although he didn't care all too much: he'd never liked her much anyway.

On the way back, he went into the store, picking up some more bacon for himself and also a tin of dog food for Jerry. The place was pretty packed, so it was no surprise when the queue was ridiculously long. Still, he found himself groaning loudly, much to the displeasure of others.

When he finally got outside, he found it raining heavily and was glad that he'd remembered to bring an umbrella today, even if it was pretty small. He got it up just in time to prevent himself getting drenched, unlike the rest of the people out and about. Hurrying down the road, he brushed past people, easily done with his tall frame, whilst avoiding the rain. After a car splashed him, he kept to the other side of the pavement, although now his pants were uncomfortably wet. He stopped for a second to fasten his jacket up properly, startled when something hit him. Turning, he saw that he'd knocked them to the floor and they were now just as drenched as he was.

He reached out his hand, feeling a warm one join in his and, after hoisting up the girl, felt the pang of recognition.

"We have to stop meeting like this," he laughed.

Rachel picked up her bag from the floor and tried to tame her messy hair, "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"No, it was my fault," Finn smiled, watching the raindrops slide down her lips. Then he realised that he wasn't being much of a gentleman and placed the umbrella over her head.

"That's not going to do me much use now," she told him.

"It's the thought that counts," he shrugged. "How about I actually walk you home this time?"

Her first thought was to decline, but she found herself agreeing. She shook her head, feeling confused. Why had she become so smitten with this man?

"Are you coming?" he asked, a slight frown on his face. She must have been off in her own world for a moment.

"Yeah."

Underneath the umbrella, she felt safe from the rain and the warmth of Finn was radiating from his clothes to her. She offered to carry his bag, not wanting him doing everything and let him tell her about the dull day that he'd had after she'd left. At that, Rachel couldn't help but smile.

"I'm a lot of things, but I'm certainly not boring," she giggled, feeling the huge change in her mood.

"What's in your bag?" he said, "peering nosily like a child.

Pausing, she teased, "secrets."

"Aaw, come on Rach." There it was again; him using the nickname. It sounded so natural, so easy and simple. She couldn't stop her lips from quickly curving upwards.

"I'll tell you what's inside if you tell me one of _your_ secrets." She'd intended it to be a bit of fun, just to tease him. When the frown deepened into his face, she knew that she'd said the wrong thing.

"You don't want to hear them at all…" he paused, then his eyes shot straight at her, "sometimes I do stupid things, things which I regret everyday just to make people happy. I don't think about the future, just the now. I hurt people Rach. I've hurt my brother before and my friends…"

She didn't understand what he was trying to say. Was he implying that hiring her was one of those stupid things, or was it a warning? Gulping, she felt their walking become much slower and very sombre. She could hear her own pulse pounding the inside of her head. This guy was sure confusing. He kept his gaze lowered, as though ashamed to glance at her. Her hand found its place on his shoulder, just as he had done with her earlier today. "I'm sure that's not true Finn. That just means that you care about people a lot." Offering him a smile, she ended her words.

He came out of his tense mood just as quickly as he'd gone into it. "I'm sorry. Just…not a great day."

"I know," she said softly, "I have them a lot…"

The silence made way for their smiles which, though small, said everything.

"Can I ask for a favour… a _really_ big favour?"

"Sure," was the concerned reply.

Rachel felt uncomfortable for even asking, or maybe that was shame. She wished that it had never come down to this, but deep down; she knew that Finn would help.

"I-I've recently found myself in dire need of…money. And I wouldn't ask if I weren't desperate but maybe, I thought that I could have my pay early. Say, sometime in the next four days? "

She didn't know what to expect from him, or whether to expect anything. Of course, she _hoped_ that he could do something to help, but you can't always get what you want and she'd had to learn that the hard way.

"How much?"

She was taken aback.

He'd said yes.

That was it. He hadn't even asked _what_ it was for.

For a moment, she found herself unable to speak and waited for a second before daring it once more. "Six hundred dollars," she said quietly.

This time, she had seen it. His eyes widened, if only in the blink of an eye but it was clear to her. What did he think? Did he not like her anymore? Did he think that she was irresponsible?

"In four days?" she noticed, in an instant, that his voice was slightly higher.

They didn't share smiles now and Rachel stood tensely beside him, not even bothering to stand beneath the umbrella. "You don't have to…" she began, feeling a disheartening feeling that caused her to frown.

To her surprise, Finn laughed, "That face makes you look like a lost puppy."

"What?"

"And it makes it hard to me too because I wouldn't want to make you look even sadder," he placed his fingers against his jaw decisively. "I can help you Rach."

"You can?" her mood was suddenly uplifted and she hugged Finn, finding her head against his chest. She pulled away almost instantly, remembering that he was her boss and that wasn't exactly the right way to act with him. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He smiled brightly at her, "you're just happy. You really need the money, huh?"

Still smiling, she said, "you have no idea."

Finn noticed how happy he felt about this all, which was unusual and it wasn't often that he gave out money, especially in such large quantities.

"I can get home by myself now. It's only down the street," Rachel told him, her eyes on his, "I don't know if I can ever thank you enough."

"Don't worry; really, you're just receiving your pay early. That's all," he shrugged, as if it was nothing at all. He held out his umbrella, "you better take this so that you don't get wet the rest of the way."

"I'm already soaked," she laughed, still taking it. "You better take your things back too."

"Have a good night Rachel," he started to say goodbye," I can work on the money tomorrow. I might just go home and have some bacon."

Raising an eyebrow, she inquired, "just bacon? Nothing else."

"No," he grinned, "bacon is good enough on its own." He smiled when she laughed, finding it to be a wonderful sound. "See you," he started to turn around.

"Goodnight," she said quickly, before saying quietly, "sweet dreams." He turned back to wave once, before running back down the road. She made the small walk back to her apartment and placed Finn's umbrella neatly by her coat before heading into the kitchen to begin the brownies. The heat from the oven, minimal as it were, still warmed up her freezing bodies and managed to dry her clothes as well. Her wet hair, now tied in a bun, no longer irritated her.

Rachel's mind turned to what he'd said about secrets, and about hurting people when he meant for it to be well. She understood, having been in the same situation many times before, however his words made her feel uneasy. What if he was trying to tell her something without directly telling her?

There could be more to Finn Hudson that meets the eye.


	4. Old foes

**It took me a little too long to write this chapter. I just wasn't really happy with it and continuously changed things around. **

**Still, hope that you enjoy reading it**

* * *

Out of habit, Rachel woke early the next morning, around 7am, and managed to have a cold shower before the task of finding the right clothes dawned upon her. It was her first official day of work in over a year and, naturally, she was determined to set the right example and to hopefully avoid any further encounters with that horrible woman Hilda. She felt the need to be impressive, to impress Finn. After all, he was the one who'd hired her, despite her having a lack of qualifications and she really needed to prove that his generosity wasn't a stupid idea that would cause him endless trouble.

At around eight, she dropped off the promised brownies at Noah's apartment and then headed to work. She couldn't deny that she was thrilled to be back at work, even if it was a trivial day job and not singing her heart out on the Broadway stage like she'd always dreamed. Maybe this is what she needed to get herself back up on her feet, the beginning of her come back to…well, everything.

The day was beautiful, only increasing her cheery mood and, as she took the lift up to the eight floor of the building, the smile showed no sign of growing smaller. "Someone's happy," a woman said next to her, "good day?"

Rachel looked toward her, still grinning, and soaked in the woman's appearance. Her skin looked dark and soft, highlighting her own wide, bright smile which was bared cheekily at Rachel. The sense that the woman gave off was one of ease and happiness, making her feel quickly relaxed, "wonderful actually."

"Must be some guy to make you look _that_ pleased," she smirked.

Rachel faltered, blushing, "oh, well…it's not like _that_. He's just a friend. Someone who's helped me out a lot. I made him some brownies to say thank you. I don't mean to brag or anything but my brownies are excellent." She realised that her words had been extremely rushed and cleared her throat nervously. Why hadn't she just said no?

The woman just smiled, "damn, for such a small girl you sure do talk a lot, and quickly too." There was a moment of silence before she said, "I'm Mercedes."

"Rachel," she smiled, "Rachel Berry. I'm new here."

"I know. I saw you leaving Fi- Mr Husdon's office yesterday. Enjoy your tour, did you?" the way that it had been said made Rachel wonder whether there was anything implied by it.

"Why yes," she nodded, "his office is very nice. A great view." The lift doors opened slowly and they stepped out at the same time into the spacious series of offices. There must have been over a hundred people working in that particular floor, some actually working whilst other gathered around a desk discussing things in hushed voices. Rachel noticed Mercedes waved at a small group in the far corner. It consisted of an Asian woman, with dark blue streaks in her dark hair, wearing a long black dress that stopped just above a pair of boots. Her arm was wrapped around a man's shoulder who, like her, looked Asian. His tight shirt highlighted his well-toned body and his own dark hair had been spiked up in small spikes. The blonde beside them was laughing, but the slightly confused expression between the laughs implied that she didn't exactly know what she was laughing about. She leant so that her face was next to the man who was sitting down, the one who was also staring straight at her. His face was hidden by a pair of large glasses and the light brown fringe sweeping across his forehead. He wore a shirt similar to the other man's, but it was baggier on his body and tucked into his trousers.

They all waved back at Mercedes, huge smiles on all of their faces, mirroring hers. Rachel felt them looking at her and immediately turned her head to face straight ahead.

"So what job have you got?"

She focused on Mercedes once more, "I'm Finn's receptionist."

"Finn?" the woman smirked.

"Oh," she frowned, "I mean Mr Hudson. "

"Uh huh, sure you do," she said in reply. Rachel felt her cheeks redden slightly and turned her face to hide it from the woman. They had now reached just outside Finn's office and Rachel lifted her hand up slowly to knock on the door when Mercedes said, "You don't need to hide anything from me Rachel."

She glanced at her, feeling herself smiling, "I don't?"

With a smile equally as big, Mercedes told her with an assured tone, "nope. I'd find out anyway. Gossip is my thing."

Slightly confused, Rachel asked, "What gossip are you talking about?"

She wasn't given an answer, instead a knowing smile. "You can sit with us at lunch break if you like. Have fun." Mercedes grinned and headed off to her friends, leaving Rachel frowning to herself. After what felt like forever, she finally tapped the door slightly three times and entered when she heard the familiar voice of Finn shout, "come in!" He was on the phone as she closed the door behind her, so she tried to be as quiet as possible. Finn greeted her with a smile and held up a finger to signal that he would only be a minute which meant that she had to wait there awkwardly to wait for him to finish. She felt the tub of brownies loosely in her fingers and tightened her grip on it.

"…yeah, yeah. I'll call you back," Finn eventually said, lifting his head up to smile at her, "hey Rach."

"Hi," she replied, confidently taking the steps towards his desk and holding out the tub for him, "I baked you some brownies. Vegan brownies so you can be safe in the knowledge that no animals were harmed." Her brilliant smile shocked him.

At first, he seemed slightly taken aback by the sudden presence of the chocolate treats, but he eagerly accepted the present, "you didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"I wanted to make it up to you." More like _needed_ to.

"Well, thanks," he said warmly, opening up the tub and taking in a deep breathe, "they smell great." This made Rachel practically beam with happiness and more so when he took the first bite, exclaiming that they were "awesome". Still with a huge chunk of it in his mouth, he began explaining the day's tasks. "…and then I need you to post all of these letters and to give each of the staff a copy of this memo." He held out the piece of paper for her. "And that should be it. Oh, lunch is at one for an hour," he smiled, "have a good day. Your brownies are probably the best I've had by the way, but don't let my mum hear me say that."

She laughed and gave him a mock salute, "you have my word." Carrying the paperwork she'd been handed, which was hard with her petite form, she made it to her desk (just outside Finn's office) and set them up neatly. Naturally, things always had to be organised but lately she hadn't cared as much and she found it nice to return to old habits. Happy with the desk, she took a seat in the comfortable padded chair and turned on the computer. On the screen, she noticed that a note had been left for her. 'Good luck on your first day Rach. Ps- I take my coffee with one sugar.' Once she had made and delivered his coffee, finding him in a business meeting, she set to work quickly. Her typing was a bit rusty but she soon got the hang of it again.

Before she realised, it was the lunch break and she found herself standing reluctantly in the canteen area. For her, it felt like High School all over again, wondering where she could sit without being noticed or getting in anyone's way. Whilst scanning the room, she noticed Mercedes waving over at her and gave a sigh of relief, remembering that she'd been invited to sit with her for lunch.

"Guys," she announced when Rachel had reached the table, "this is the girl I was telling you about. Finn's new receptionist. Her name is Rachel and it's her first day so you better make her feel welcome." Rachel noticed that Mercedes had called him Finn rather than Mr Hudson and the reaction that she'd gained for doing the same thing only this morning.

"Hi," she put on her best smile, taking a seat between the man with glasses and Mercedes. Casually glancing to her side, she saw that he wasn't in a seat, but a wheelchair. She was about to ask him about it when Mercedes began to introduce the others.

"So Rachel, time for introductions! You obviously know who I am, but this is Tina and Mike," she pointed to the two Asians who were presumably a couple as their hands were tightly locked together. "That's Brittany," she gestured toward the blonde, who in return gave an absent smile, "and that's Artie." The man gave a tiny wave towards her, clearly a bit more nervous that all the others.

She tried to be as friendly as possible, "it's nice to meet you all. I was worried that I'd be eating alone today."

"No one eats alone here," Artie told her, "even the losers have friends."

"What do you mean?" Rachel frowned.

There was a pause, one which consisted on the smiles decreasing and more serious faces appearing. Tina spoke up in a high, sweet voice, "well, everyone fits in some group. Like, there are the 'popular' people who eat over there." She pointed to series of tables by the windows, "and then there are workaholics, who choose to eat in the office so that they can get more done."

"Don't forget the slackers," Mike chimed in, leaning closer slightly.

"I was getting to that!" she said, "like he said, the slackers are another big group. They like to stay furthest away from the door, so that it takes them longer to get back to work. Over there are the Asians. They keep themselves to themselves and that's it."

Mike looked down, "I wanted to be in that group."

"Mike!" Tina nudges him quickly.

"Sorry," he mumbled back.

Artie began again. "It's just like back in-"

"High school," Rachel finished off.

"And then there's us," Mercedes took charge, smiling widely again," we work, but not to the extreme and have fun whilst we're doing it."

"Are you the only four?" Rachel asked, looking around the canteen further.

They were quick to defend their group. "We're better off like this. Occasionally, we'll have more, but they either get downgraded or upgraded. Like that Jacob guy, he left us for the computer geeks, who you will find over there, looking at pictures of naked robots on their computers." She peered around to look, squinting her eyes at the very familiar face.

"Jacob Ben Israel!" she gasped loudly, realising that he was turning to see where it came from. Frozen to the spot, she knew that he'd seen her and panicked when he smiled, getting up. "I've…erm, gotta go. Thanks. Bye!" She grabbed her things and dashed from the room, hearing him call after her. Back in the office, she hid behind a large screen in hope that he wouldn't be able to see her. "Not here, not now," she whispered to herself, or more prayed.

She heard footsteps going past. "Rachel, where are you?" His voice was just as she remembered, still maintaining the shaky quality that she'd always found creepy. Rachel didn't want to deal with him here, not after so many years of him during High school. It just wasn't fair at all. Her breathe was slow and quiet, but he could still hear. "There you are!"

Now, he could be seen even more clearly that before: his large, uncontrollable head of hair was worse than ever; his beady eyes stuck on her body; the glasses were still strange and creepy and he leered at her for over a minute before she said, rather angrily, "what do you want Jacob?"

"I missed you Rachel."

Hearing this, a shiver ran down her spine. "Ju-"

"I moved after you left, to a place near Julliard. I couldn't bear the thought of being far away from you and even when you moved back home, I followed. After that terrible accident with your dads, I thought that I could help you out, but you were gone again. You ran to New York. I didn't realise until you were gone and I came after you, looked everywhere but you'd vanished. Even my inner city ties couldn't help me to locate you. So I stopped searching, and now you've walked right back into my life. Coincidence or fate?"

"More like extremely unlucky," she sneered, moving to leave, "now get away from me or I swear I'll call the cops.

"What have I done?"

Shaking her head, she ignored him and began to walk away. How dare he ask such a question, when he fully well knew what he'd done to her, ruining her whole time in High School? She was absolutely fuming, wanting to scream and shout but also, she was upset. She didn't just dislike him, she hated him and he was the only person who she could truthfully say that to.

His footsteps could be heard behind her, though almost instantly they stopped. She couldn't help herself: she had to see why. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Jacob looking far right, the look of panic now on _his_ face as he stared at Finn, who didn't look too happy. Rachel let her whole body spin now, unsure of what was the right thing to say. Finn was now glancing at Jacob like you would a child, a stern glare on the man's face. Though it was unfamiliar to her, Jacob's terrified squeal was something she recognised from his run-ins with Coach Sylvester in High School. Without another word, he'd scurried off back to the canteen, leaving Rachel to give a sigh of relief.

It probably didn't look to good, what with her on the verge of tears and Jacob having ran without an explanation. "Is everything okay?" Finn asked, giving a rather strange glance her way.

"It's nothing…I'm fine," she replied quickly, not able to look him in the eye.

It was quiet, very quiet.

She felt his hand rest softly on her back. "You're shaking," he almost whispered.

"That's because it's cold in here."

"Rach," Finn said knowingly. Although he couldn't see, she shook her head slowly and hugged herself tightly, her fingers cold and tense.

"Who was that man?" he questioned her, as though she was a fragile child.

Rachel shrugged, finally turning to face Finn who stared back at her with an intense look. She didn't want it to be this way, people feeling that they needed to protect her when she could do everything herself. Ever since she was younger, she hadn't liked depending on people for things, no matter how small. The only person who she admitted to doing so with was Puck, as he was basically family to her and she could trust him with almost anything. She didn't want Finn to think that she was incapable of looking after herself, though suspected that he thought so already. "He was just someone I knew from High School. We never really saw eye to eye," she told him, hoping that it would be enough to keep him happy. If only Finn knew of how far Jacob could go…

She felt his hand slide from her back, the movement causing a light tingling on her skin, "makes you glad that it's all over, huh?"

"Life is exactly like High school though," she told him, muttering more to herself, "just without the slushies'."

"The what?"

When she focused on his face, it was one of half amusement and half confusion. "A slushy," she explained, "the popular kids would usually drench their victim in it. I had more than my fair share."

Finn winced, "that's horrible." Deep down, he knew that it was no better than what he did to "losers" back then.

"So are the people throwing them," Rachel was quick to reply. He eyes met his, gazing into them for a little too long, "I'm sorry, you have work to do. I should really get back to the canteen, I'm really hungry."

"Oh," he frowned, "it'll be closing around now." She inwardly sighed, knowing that it was all Jacob's fault. Thankfully, Finn was there to her aid again, "but I still have some brownies left, if you want some? I mean, you _did_ make them yourself, so you may as well enjoy 'em, right?"

Despite her prior bad feelings, she smiled toward Finn, "Yeah, you're right." She followed him back into his office, where it was much messier than when she'd left it this morning.

As she shared this with Finn, he smiled nervously, "I was busy with work. I didn't have time for cleaning."

She shook her head. "There's always time for cleaning," she eagerly replied, her smile increasing.

"You're weird," he laughed. At first, she'd thought that he'd meant it in a malicious way and had turned away from him, but soon understood that it was just him teasing her. Reaching his desk, he picks up the box, only with a few brownies left in, and hands it to her, "I'm afraid that there isn't many left, but it's your fault for making them taste so nice!"

Laughing, she took a bite of one, "I'm glad that you enjoyed them. My friend Noah says that my brownies are the best in the world."

"Noah?" Finn scrunched up his face.

"Yeah," she smiled, "but he likes people to call him Puck. I insist on using his real name though. I think that Noah's nice. "She noticed that Finn's smile faltered though was quickly hid. Taking another bite into the brownie, she cherished the rich taste, knowing that it was one of the largest "meals" she'd eaten in days. "You were right," she told Finn, "these _are_ good."

"Too bad you didn't make anymore," Finn said.

With a sly smile, she replied, "maybe I'll make more one day…if I feel like it." As she laughed along with him, her eyes drifted along to wall to settle on his clock, which now read 2pm, "don't you need to get back to work now?"

"I could say the same for you," he said softly, "but before you go…" She watched as he opened the top drawer, routing through a pile of papers and equipment to finally pull out a large, overstuffed envelope. She felt her heart stop: he'd actually got her the money. As they exchanged the crinkled envelope, their fingers brushed, sending a shock of energy through her entire body.

"Thank you," she said in disbelief, "you don't know how much this means to me… I can't be grateful enough."

"No, just…forget about it," he had suddenly become shy. Rachel hesitated before catching Finn's large frame in a tight hug, her head only reaching his chest. She could feel Finn awkwardly standing, his whole body tensed, and pulled away.

She managed to make herself look at his shocked face, "I'm sorry. I just…" As she thought about it, she realised that she had no reason to justify. All she could say was that it felt right and that sounded a little strange. Though he didn't say anything, he stood completely still, his hands placed stiffly in front of his trousers. Embarrassed, she turned to walk away, almost colliding with smartly dressed man who seemed to have appeared from nowhere. His hair was neatly combed to one side, his skin smooth and perfect, and his clothes definitely designer.

"Finn," he began, not really acknowledging that she was there, "we have to go. Get your wallet and hurry up. The store closes at three."

Rachel took this as her cue to leave, giving him a final glance over her shoulder. "Miss Berry," she heard him call. When she turned, he smiled, "have a good night."

Noticing Kurt giving Finn an impatient glare, she kept it quick, "you too sir."

Once out of the room, she returned back to her desk, where there wasn't much work to do at all. She could spot Jacob in the far corner and avoided looking at him for the rest of the day, though it couldn't make her feel better about having to be in the same room as him. Still hungry from the lack of any real food, the next few hours felt like days to her. She was more than glad when she could go home, enjoying the cool evening air on her skin. Rachel couldn't wait to get home, but first she had a little detour to take.

* * *

She arrived at her landlord's door not much later, freezing her butt off in the cold street. Warmth radiated from inside when he opened the door and she could see him sigh, "look, I told you. You can't have an extension on the rent…"

He was about to go on when she thrust the envelope into his face.

"What's this?" he frowned.

The proud smile was glued on her face, "the money. Every last bit of it." He took the envelope cautiously, looking as though he didn't believe her. What was she going to do? Put monopoly money in instead? He took out the large wad of money, quickly counting through all of it. Rachel couldn't remember ever seeing so much money at once and the sight made her feel happy but also guilty. She knew that she was going to have to pay Finn back for every dollar she'd borrowed.

Her landlord glanced up at her, "there's two hundred too much."

"What?" she pulled a confused face. She'd told Finn the right number, hadn't she?

Still, she felt two hundred dollars being thrust back into her hand. The door was closed in her face without as much as thanks. Her head was spinning as she walked back home, the money feeling heavy in her jacket pocket as she tried to think of any reasons why he'd put too much in. She must have said the wrong number to him: that is the only possible explanation.

She was _positive_ that she'd got it right.

Maybe, though it was unlikely, he'd put it in there intentionally.

But why?

It didn't make any sense.

Finn was a nice guy, but he didn't have any reasons to do it. She truly didn't understand him.

When it began to rain, she sighed, "great…just great." Her coat was only thin and she protected the money by keeping her pocket covered at all times, meaning that her head was allowed to become absolutely soaked. Now cold and wet, she walked a little faster to her apartment.

"You look like you need some assistance," she heard behind her. At first, she'd hope that it would be Finn, as he always seemed to miraculously appear whenever she needed him, like a superhero or something, but instead she found Noah appearing beside her.

"Not from you," she said. He smiled, pulled off his leather jacket and placing it over both of their heads. Rachel was more than grateful. She remembered that she owed him some money and managed to pull it from her pocket, waving it in front of his face, "for you."

He took it from her, "oh thanks. Ten dollars."

She nudged his side, "hey, that's a lot for some people."

"Not for me," he said, nevertheless pocketing it in his damp jeans. "You off home?"

"Yeah," she replied casually."

Noah nodded, "good. I'm coming too."

"What?" she asked, "you can't just invite yourself into my apartment."

With a cheeky grin, he said, "I just did. My roommate's got a date over tonight and he wants me out of the way." Though she didn't exactly feel glad about it, she couldn't exactly turn him away and, like her fathers had always taught her, accepted him graciously into the apartment. He'd been many times before, normally only when he was waiting for her or dropping something off.

Before she'd had the chance to sit down, he lay fully across the sofa, stretching out his legs and arms, "Mmmm, I'm in the mood for a nap."

"Not here," she swatted at his legs so that she could sit down herself. He threw a cushion at her, in the process knocking her coat off the end of the sofa. "Well done," she said sarcastically.

"I'll get it," he told her, leaning over her body to reach for it.

She sighed, rolling her eyes, "get off me."

"Oh, you know that you love it," he flashed a smile. Leaning back, he refolded her coat, not before nosily looking through the pockets. "Have you got any more of those brownies in here?" he asked, licking his lips.

"No, I- Noah, give that to me now!" she panicked when his hand was suddenly bulging with the money. A little shocked by her rather loud outburst, he passed it to her, but still glared suspiciously. "I didn't steal it, if that's what you think, "Rachel told him, finding her purse and stuffing it inside.

He raised an eyebrow, "oh?"

She sighed, "you know that I have a new job."

"Yes, and a boss that you like to bake for," he teased.

"Well," Rachel carried on, ignoring his jests, "he gave me my pay early, so that I could pay my landlord back but he gave me too much money. So, I'll be giving him this back tomorrow morning."

"You've known this guy for what? A few days? And he's already giving you money. He must _really_ like you," Noah commented, trying to get comfortable on the sofa once more.

She shook her head, "no, Finn's just being a gentleman, unlike you."

"Hey, baby, I've saved your arse more times than I can remember."

"Likewise," she said dryly, "who helped you out when that guy wanted to beat you up for sleeping with his girlfriend? Oh yeah, _me_."

Without even bother to reply, he just began to laugh heartily at the memory and then turned to Rachel, "that was fun. And she was very hot." Just to clarify, he let out a long, low whistle.

Rachel rolled her eyes, "I'm pretty sure that there isn't one girl who you haven't slept with in this city."

"I haven't slept with you," he faced her, suddenly smirking and said "want to help me complete my record?"

"No thank you. I know that we've kissed in the past but now it would be really weird. Don't you think?" she asked him, "wouldn't it feel like you were kissing your sister or something?"

"Oh, thanks for ruining it for me," he threw his hands up in the air, "now I can never think of you as hot again."

She placed her hand on his, "Noah, that's a good thing."

He decided to change the subject, "so…what do you want to do? Apparently I'm not allowed back until eleven."

"We could do anything," she suggested, instantly regretting it when he smirked at her, "but _that_."

"I want to hear more about this boss of yours," Noah suddenly perked up, looking her straight in the eyes, "Finn, was it?"

She smiled, "yeah."

Noah grinned, leaning closer to her face. "You _like_ him."

"He's a very nice person," she agreed.

"No, like as in, fuck worthy like," he explained.

"You're disgusting."

"And you," he pointed, "are a terrible liar."

"I can lie. I'm an actress Noah," she frowned at him, "I would like to talk about something else."

He now moved away from her, a smug smile appearing on his lips, "that's it princess. Avoid the truth."

Rachel knew that he'd just meant it in a joking way and it wasn't to be taken serious, as were most of the things that he came out with, but it still make her stop and think. Why was she constantly being reminded that she ran away, doing anything possible to ignore the obvious? She liked Finn, though she didn't fancy him. Noah was clearly just teasing her on that. It was hard not to like Finn: he was sweet; liked her baking and willing to help her with a lot of things. And, honestly, he wasn't that bad looking either. He was different to the other kinds of guys she'd been with, mainly as he fit the description of 'good guy' whereas many of her previous boyfriends had fallen short at that point. She didn't have any deeper feelings though. After all, she only known the guy for what, three or four days?

"You okay Berry?"

She didn't hear it at first due to thinking, but when she did answer, she did so quietly, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"That's girl talk for no," he pointed out.

"How would you know what girl talk for anything is?" she raised her eyebrow, a smile teasing her lips.

"When you're me and around the ladies all the time, you can't help but pick a few things," he shrugged casually, causing Rachel to roll her eyes. Sighing, she tied back her wet hair and pulled her knees to her chest. Noah smiled when she looked his way, "we should watch a movie, or is your electricity still being weird?"

She liked his suggestion, "it'll last a few hours. Ooh we should watch Funny girl!"

"God no! Something with explosions, guns and naked chicks," he grinned.

"Noah! Please, be sensible and realise that those sorts of films are solely for your interest. Maybe we could compromise?" she questioned, peering across at him. At first, he scrunched up his face at the idea before sighing, showing his defeat.

"I want to watch a zombie film," he insisted.

Thankfully, she didn't own any films like that, "I have pirate films."

"How do pirates and zombies relate to each other?" he pulled a face at her.

"They both smell bad," she replied.

"Fair point. We'll watch one of those then," he said, reaching over to turn off her lamp, "it's cold in here."

Rachel sighed loudly at his complaining, before finding a blanket in her bedroom. When she returned to the room, he was sprawled across the sofa again, the film already starting and then he had the nerve to shout at her for taking up too much room. In the end, she lay down next to him, finding that her petite physique fit perfectly. The blanket covering the both of them, she smiled at him before returning to the film. She thought of her relationship with Noah and how it may seem strange to others. She considered them to be closer, best friends almost, but he'd never say so to anyone but her and still, all the feelings were platonic. When had they become like this? She didn't remember. At one point, they'd almost gone all the way, but thankfully hadn't. Otherwise, it would be awkward between the two and they both knew it.

People often thought that they were an item, something that didn't really bother them too much, but normally she'd lie and say that he's her brother because that would explain how comfortable they were around each other. In this modern world, a man and woman couldn't be close without something going on, or so everybody seemed to think so. She loved Noah, just not that way.

As the thoughts ran through her mind, so did Finn. She felt rather guilty about the money now, wishing that she could return it all tomorrow morning rather than a quarter of it, but she knew that she'd be out of the streets otherwise. She remembered hugging him. Although it had been a spare of the moment choice, and slightly uncomfortable, she'd enjoyed it more than she have, which was worrying. She didn't want to fall for another guy who could potentially break her heart.

But she was afraid that she might be doing so already.

* * *

**Please review. I love to hear what you think.**


	5. More than enough

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews guys! It encouraged me to get this chapter finished much quicker. That and I can't wait to bring the twist in!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Her heavy eyelids opened, the first thing she saw being the television, which was now turned off. She could feel Noah's arm clutching onto her waist as he still lay beside her and she could also hear his loud snoring right in her ear. Stretching her arms, she yawned loudly and released herself from Noah's tight grip. She had just enough time for a quick shower but sadly no extra time for some breakfast, which meant that the last time she'd eaten properly was the day before at this time.

When she returned to the living room, fully dressed, Noah was only just waking up. He groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, "what time is it?"

All the time, she was fussing around him, trying to get herself ready in as less time as possible. She checked her watch, "almost eight." Noah gave a sigh, managing to stand himself up and saunter into the kitchen. She could hear him fumbling through all the cupboards, slamming them shut when he couldn't find anything.

"What do you actually have in here?" he asked, frustrated.

She thought, already knowing that there wasn't much, "some milk…I think. Maybe some fruit." As she entered the kitchen, she found his head in the fridge, finally pulling out the almost empty carton of milk. He chugged it down easily, before giving a sound of content and returning to his search. "I've got to go to work," she informed him, ignoring her initial hunger, "you can stay here if you like, but remember to lock up when you leave, unlike last time."

"See you then," he mumbled, taking a moment to look at her with a devilish smirk, "have fun with Finn."

The eye roll came naturally and she flounced from the room, grabbing her coat on the way. Thankfully, the weather wasn't as terrible as it had been the last few days and she rather enjoyed the walk to the office, though the money was still looming in the back of her mind.

* * *

She wasn't greeted by anyone as she entered today; leaving her to dwell on what she was going to say to Finn. Mercedes waved at her again in the office, her bright smile as welcoming as ever. Her mood lifted once more, she headed toward Finn's office with a bit more confidence and determination. She knocked three times, receiving no answer. With a frown, she proceeded to repeat her actions and still got the same reply.

"He's not in," she was startled when Artie was beside her, a stack of papers on his lap.

She hesitated, "where is he?" What was she going to do with the money?

Artie shrugged, before pushing up his glasses. "All that I know is that he's doing something with his brother and won't be back until this afternoon." He noticed how deflated she became and asked, "is that a problem?"

"No, of course not," she lied. "I just needed to ask him something."

"Oh, alright. Are you sitting with us at lunch today, or are you…err?" he frowned, unsure of how to put it.

She smiled gratefully, "sure, and this time I won't be running out. Yesterday I just was a little shocked, but it's fine now."

The man nodded, "well, I'll see you there then." He began wheeling himself away, leaving Rachel standing at the door. Rachel didn't have any choice but to start working again, although there were only a few things that'd been left on her desk, a note from Finn explaining what needed to be done. She wondered when he had written it: had he been there early this morning? Shaking her head, she attempted to rid herself of any thoughts concerning Finn which were apparently a lot. She needed something to distract her, though was unable to think of anything that would do the job properly. Well, perhaps her hunger, but she didn't want to dwell on that either.

With a frown, she wondered whether Noah was still at her apartment, eating all the remains of food he could find. She made a mental note to buy something before she went home.

Idly, she glanced around the room, noticing again that Mercedes had her group of friends gathered around her computer, each laughing at the screen. It reminded her of her seemingly lonely life, with one true friend that she could rely on. Her dads were gone and she'd left so quickly that no one had been given the chance to fill the void. Sure, she'd met some nice people, in College and in temporary jobs, but they'd never made her feel like she could tell them everything. She supposed that Noah was the only one who'd been stuck with her long enough to actually be classed as a true friend.

As she watched the five together, she felt a pang of sadness hit her. She was Rachel Berry. She didn't need any friends… all she needed was the occasional beer to clear her mind. Still, they all looked pretty happy and she hadn't laughed like that in months.

Her legs willed her to go over and talk to them, though her mind was less encouraging. Taking in a breath, she stood up and slowly took step after step toward them.

* * *

She was smiling brightly. So what if she hadn't had a chance to give the money back to Finn? The day had still been better than expected and she was practically bouncing as she hurried home. She found that she liked talking to Mercedes and everyone, although she did a _lot_ of talking, maybe a bit too much. It was nice to enjoy their carefree ways and even indulge herself in a little "girl talk" with Tina.

In her hands, she had two full bags of food (the most she'd bought in a while) including some meat for Noah if he decided to stay at her apartment again because he was not eating her vegan food, not that he'd want to.

It was unusual when she heard music from her apartment, slowly stepping inside to find Noah on his guitar, back to the door. He didn't turn when she entered or whilst she dropped the bags on the kitchen counter, causing a rather loud bang. His singing was even louder though and she hummed along to _Sweet Caroline_ with him, her voice drifting through to the other room. He suddenly stopped playing, "is that you Berry, or is there some random girl in here? I don't have a problem with either."

Smiling at his words, she appeared in the kitchen doorway, "it's me. Your singing was nice, although it-"

"Lacked your years of experience," he finished off, for once rolling his eyes at her. Placing down his guitar carefully on the sofa, he went to join her in the kitchen.

"You've improved though," she said happily, beginning to pack away some of the food, "have you been here all day?"

He leaned against the counter, mostly getting in her way, "pretty much. I went home to get my guitar but Richard was still asleep so I came back here. Beats having to listen about his date. Mine have sucked lately.

She acted shocked, "what? El Puckerone is losing his touch."

"Only I can say that!" he insisted, "and I'm just going through a rough patch, 'kay?"

"Mmmm huh, sure Noah," she teased, a cheeky smile on her lips. She took out the steak that she'd bought him, not looking at all happy about having to hold it, "for you."

"Well, aren't you thoughtful?" he laughed, "and it's even Kosher too. You shouldn't have Berry." When she'd done putting everything away, darting about the kitchen quickly, Noah began to cook his food, offering to make her something as well. Despite what he said, he was actually a pretty good cook, though Rachel didn't think that he was as spectacular as her. "Did you get any beer?" he asked half way through cooking, swinging the fridge open and staring at the contents.

She sighed, reaching to grab it before he could himself. "That's mine," she said, "and you shouldn't be drinking when you're cooking."

"Like you haven't done it before," he gave her the look.

After a pause, she defended herself, "well I don't do it anymore." With a huff, she placed the can back in the fridge and folded her arms at him.

He just shook his head, mumbling, "It must be _someone's_ time of the month." Giving a loud gasp, she smacked the back of his head and walked away from him. "If you're going to be all pissy for no reason," he began, "I might just _burn_ your food."

By now, she'd reached the living room. "Good," came her childish reply. Noah began some incisive muttering under his breath, words that she decided to ignore. She, on the other hand, acted as though nothing had happened and sat casually on the sofa, occasionally turning to gaze into the kitchen to make sure that he in fact wasn't burning any of the food. When there was a series of loud bangs from the room, she almost had a heart attack. "What's going on in there?" she frowned.

His obstructed her view, "nothing, nothing at all."

She shook her head at his antics, trying her best not to say anything critical.

As if that wasn't enough, someone at the door startled her almost instantly after that incident. She wondered who it could be, especially since Noah was already there. Not that he'd knock; he normally just walked straight in. Standing up, she curiously stepped toward the door, and slowly opened it.

"Hey." She wasn't sure what expression she had, but apparently it was bad because his face fell. Was she imagining this? Was Finn really at her doorstep? The good hostess in her was shouting to let him in but she didn't want Finn to see the place that she called home: it was bad enough that she had to deal with it herself. "Is this a bad time?"

She stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind her, "I-what are you doing here Finn?"

_I just wanted to see you. _"I needed to bring this back to you."

He produced the tub, now completely brownie-less and held it out for her. She looked up at him in confusion, "you could have given it to me tomorrow. It would've saved you a trip."

"I thought that I'd do it whilst I remember," he gave her a half smile, laughing nervously.

"Well," she started, the word hovering between them, "thanks." They stood awkwardly in the hallway, unsure of what to say to each other.

Finn looked conflicted. "Rach, I-"

The door opened, spilling light onto the both of them. Noah leaned against the door, a smirk playing on his lips, fitting in with his smug appearance. "Well, what do we have here?"

"Go back inside Noah," she shot him a warning glance. Beside her, Finn frowned deeply, a strange look in his eyes.

Noah narrowed his eyes at her, "Fine." He began to turn, though still glaring at her, "your dinner's ready by the way." She nodded quickly, resisting the urge to shove him back inside just so he'd be quicker.

They waited until there was silence once more. "I should go," Finn said, avoiding her gaze all of a sudden.

"Oh," she began, "okay." The conversation wasn't exactly as she'd hoped it would be, but at least she'd been able to see him. She mentally slapped herself: she couldn't think like that. It wasn't right. He was beginning to leave when she remembered about the money. "Wait!" At first, he looked almost scared though returned nonetheless. "I'll be a second," she hurried inside the room, not even caring if she'd left the door open, and began to search inside her coat pockets for the money. Noah was stepping out of the kitchen with his food just in time to have Rachel scatter past him and toward Finn.

Finn was waiting patiently and silently, looking around the room, though more specifically at Rachel. She thrust the money toward him, "you gave me too much money the other day." She looked a little guilty, "and I know that there should be two hundred here but I used a little of it for my groceries an-"

"You keep the money," he insisted.

She did a double take, "b-but it's yours."

He shook his head earnestly, "well, I gave it to you…so it's actually yours now. It's only two hundred dollars."

Rachel didn't feel right taking it, "I didn't earn it though."

"I don't have any time to put it back in the bank," he shrugged, "so you may as well keep it."

She frowned, looking down at the money in her hands; it made her feel like a terrible person. "Please take it out of my pay Finn."

He paused, "if you want…"

"Yes, just, yes," she couldn't look him in the eye. Time felt like it was slowed and the moment went on for longer than she wanted it to, especially with the horrible feeling in her stomach. "err…goodnight Finn."

"Goodnight Rach," he smiled, at the same time being painfully aware that Noah was staring at them. He wanted to give her a hug, to feel the same way he did when she'd hugged him on an impulse but instead he gave a small wave and walked away, wishing that he'd done more. Deep down, he knew that he shouldn't, despite it being all he could think about on the way home. _God, I'm such a bad person._

* * *

"Well _Rach_, that was interesting, wasn't it?" Noah grinned.

"Shut up Puckerman," she tried to ignore him, pretending that she was more occupied in her food.

He raised an eyebrow. "Puckerman? I must have touched a nerve." Leaning back, he didn't remove his smug face. He watched her for a while, taking in her tense silence as though it were a joke before finally saying, "You're hopeless."

* * *

She didn't speak to Finn for a while after that, since she felt bad for not only having the money, but being unable to do anything with it. It just sat in her drawer, though always felt on her mind, mocking her. It was sometimes hard to concentrate on her job, but she would force herself to do so, sometimes even working overtime so that she felt she'd actually earned that money.

Strangely enough, Finn didn't seem to want to talk to her either. He'd gone from being nice and gentle to distance and just uninterested. She knew that she hadn't said anything wrong…or had she?

Finishing his morning coffee, she carried it into the office where he was almost buried in stacks of paper and books, not looking very happy.

"Thanks," he mumbled, never taking his eyes off the paper in his hand.

She began to walk away, but something made her stop and turn around. Rachel had no idea why she had yet she was thankful that she had. "Mr Hudson?" she asked, sounding uncertain of herself. At work, she'd become used to calling him that, rather than Finn, in a hope that it would stop Mercedes mentioning it every time she slipped up.

He looked at her curiously, "yes."

She hesitated, looking anywhere but at him. Finally, her eyes met his and she completely chickened out, something which was very unusual for her, "oh, it doesn't matter." She found herself shaking her head slowly.

"No, what were you going to say?" he questioned, his eyes telling her that he needed to know. She took a step closer, ringing her hands together nervously.

There was a moment as they both stared at each other, words seemingly hanging between them. "Are you annoyed at me?" she asked quickly, feeling the need to justify herself, "Because it feels like you don't want to talk to me anymore and when you do, you don't really seem all there. Did I do something to upset you?" The words were hesitant; she didn't know why she cared so much.

As she waited for an answer, she noticed how silent the room felt. Again, she started to blabber, "actually, just forget what I said." What was she doing? The thought that she _had_ done something wrong made her want to run and never have to face him again. It was a mystery as to why he affected her in such a way. "I'm just-" She couldn't even justify herself, instead spinning on her heel to leave.

"Rachel," he called after her, standing up. The papers on his lap fell to the floor in a discarded heap, but he didn't mind, or he hid it well.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," she pretended that it was nothing, trying to hide the hurt that was on her face. Rachel hated not understanding and so, detested not knowing why she was so upset. Finn had been nothing but kind to her and this is how she was going to repay him, by overreacting. She knew why. She was needy. She had to have constant reassurance that somebody cared for her, the same need that had been growing larger after the death of her fathers.

His long legs easily carried him over to her, where she appeared to be frozen. Gently, his fingers reached around her shoulder and he spoke the words, "you're right." Then he sighed, his gaze averted from her, "something was bothering me and I just haven't wanted to talk to anybody about it, but I won't act like that anymore."

She opened her mouth to say something, but Finn hadn't stopped and he needed to get it out before he made things worse. "So I think that we should start again. How about we go for coffee?"

"Coffee?" she asked, unsure. Finn instantly nodded. "Do you think that's a good idea? Seeing as you're my boss."

He smiled, "no, it's not a good idea." Her heart dropped, "but do you still want to go?"

"Yes, I do."

"Great, we'll go after your shift then," he said enthusiastically, a drastic change from his previous mood, returning to the desk, "see you then."

"Yeah," she agreed, feeling excited as she walked from the room. What just happened? Was this a date? He hadn't specifically said so, but it would just be them two…alone.

* * *

After an anxious wait, she could hear him emerge from his office and turned to see him already in his coat. With butterflies in her stomach, she stood up, placing on her own coat and buttoning it up half way. He smiled at her, leaning against the desk, "you ready?"

She nodded, seemingly unable to speak. Most of the workers had gone home now, bar the few who were working overtime, which apparently included Brittany, though Rachel suspected that she just forgot what time it was or something along those lines. Still, the blonde waved happily at Rachel as she walked past, returning to stare at the computer with a dazed expression. Finn held the door open for her, waiting patiently as she walked through. "So, where are we going to?" she finally found her voice, curiously looking up at him.

A hint of mystery mixing in with his word, he said, "you'll see."

* * *

She placed the hot cup of coffee to her lips, taking a sip of the satisfying drink before looking to Finn. "Do you know a few weeks ago when I came to your apartment?" She nodded, eyes wide with interest, "who was that guy with you?"

"Oh, Noah?" Rachel asked, "he'd stayed over the previous night and was just hanging out." The words were casual, but he was listening so closely that they didn't sound that way.

"He comes around a lot?" he managed to ask, his throat feeling a little dry.

"Pretty much," she said, starting to laugh a little, "usually, he just shows up but I can't ever turn him away." Having some more coffee, she watched for Finn's reaction, noticing how tense he was, "are you alright?"

He forced a smile, "yeah 'course. The coffee just tastes a bit strange." _Lame Hudson_

"It tastes fine to me," she told him, a curious pout on her lips, "here, try it."

The immediate reaction was to decline. "Oh, I couldn't."

She held her mug towards his mouth, trying to give a persuasive look. "Come on Finn," she giggled, biting her bottom lip, "it won't kill you."

Despite his will power, he gave in and let her slowly tip the hot coffee into his mouth. "You're right, that one is better. Do you think they did that on purpose?"

"What? Why would they do that?"

"It was a guy that served us and he kept checking you out. He probably spat in my drink or something because I have the pleasure of knowing you," he said charmingly, looking at his own coffee.

She shook her head, blushing and grinning. "Finn, that's ridiculous. He was just being friendly and nobody has spat in your drink. You're being paranoid."

"You just watch," he pointed his finger playfully; "I might get…spit poisoning…or something."

"You just made that up," she accused him, leaning further into the table.

He shrugged, "so what if I did?" Smiling, his eyes never leave her happy face and he waits until she isn't laughing anymore to continue, "part of why I asked you here was to see how you were getting on with work." He hesitated, saying softly, "do you like it here?"

Rachel was shocked that he didn't know the answer to that already, seeing as he saw her basically every day and not once had she complained to him, well, except for the Jacob incident. However, she tried to find the words to tell him that it was probably the best place she'd work at yet.

Happily sighed, she confessed, "I love it. I've made friends, good hours, great pay and not to mention a wonderful boss." At this, he beamed proudly toward her, dimples appearing on his cheeks which Rachel thought was incredibly cute.

"I'm glad to hear that."

They each sipped at their drink simultaneously, looking out of the window onto the dark street. "So," he tried to hide his nerves, "what sorts of things do you like?"

Though it was a vague question, she found herself answering. Guiltily so, she loved to talk about herself, or more, what things she enjoyed. "I absolutely adore Broadway," she explained, "and singing. I love to sing! When I was younger, it was my dream to be Eva Perón in _Evita_ or Fanny Brice in _Funny girl."_

"I don't know who either of them are," he confessed.

To say she was shocked was an understatement. "What?" she squeaked, "How can you not know? It's an atrocity."

"Sorry?" he smiled sympathetically. "Anyway, that's not important…are you any good at singing?"

"Why yes. My fathers would always tell me that I had a wonderful voice. I suppose that I haven't really sang much since…"

"Will you sing for me?"

She glanced around the room which, though wasn't full, still made her feel nervous. "Now?"

He nodded, looking at her patiently. It was rare that she got nervous, especially because of her extensive years of training in the arts, so it baffled her that she felt nervous when about to sing in front of Finn. Despite this, she looked straight into his eyes. "Okay, let me just think of a song." It didn't take her long and soon she was easily singing out the words in perfect tune.

_Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world  
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere  
Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit  
He took the midnight train goin' anywhere _

Finn was smiling at her, again making her want him even more and she hated herself for thinking so. She'd stopped, telling him sweetly, "and that's all I'm going to sing."

"Wow," was his first thought, "your dads were right. Your voice…wow."

Turning away from his, she tried to hide her blush though her smile was harder to conceal. "Thank you," she said, "do you think it's Broadway good?"

"It's better," he replied, all seriousness in his eyes, "how are you not a famous singer yet?"

"I told you," Rachel began, "I haven't sung much since my fathers died. I was going to audition for Les Misérables but I didn't go. I woke up at Noah's apartment the next day with a killer hangover and a lot of regrets."

"Do you drink a lot?" Finn frowned, watching her reaction carefully. Honestly, she was taken aback by how straightforward the question had been given and it took her a while to answer.

"Sometimes." He didn't say anything else. She felt like she'd said the wrong thing but the words just kept spilling out, "when I'm upset or lonely…"

Maybe she'd ruined the conversation by saying that. Finn clearly was at a loss of words, either that or he just didn't want to say what he was thinking. He could have been judging her, convincing himself that she was an alcoholic. But Rachel didn't believe that he was. There was something in his eye, something honest and calming that couldn't let her think that way. He'd understand. He said he'd known people to get addicted to it before and so, her small liking of the stuff shouldn't be too surprising. She shifted in her seat, never letting her eyes slip from his whilst ignoring everything else around her bar him.

He was done with waiting, "please say something." It sounded more desperate than intended. 

Blinking, he responded, "I don't really know what to say to that. Last time, you became angry and then upset within a few minutes."

She frowned, "that wasn't exactly my best day."

"I know."

"And I still don't know why you didn't just give up straight away," she inquired, leaning on her hand.

Finn smiled, "my mum would always say 'if you can't handle someone at their worst, then you don't deserve to see them at their best' I hadn't even remembered until you woke up and started shouting. And then it all made more sense to me, you know?"

"No," she shook her head, a laugh erupting from her lips, "but I think that your mum is a very wise woman."

"You're telling me," he started, "she's the best." He seemed to be reminiscent of something before his eyes fell on her once more, "she'd love you."

Rachel was cautious, "she would?"

"Yeah," he grinned, suddenly getting nervous, "I mean, because you're really nice and easy to talk to. You're also polite. She hates rude people."

"So, I suppose you won't mention the way that you spoke to me the first time we met to her?" her eyebrow raised, gaze bore into him intensely as he squirmed in his seat. It was clear that he hadn't forgotten that night though she wished that she could: then she would only have fond memories of him, "kindergarten, eh?"

He was clearly uncomfortable. "I didn't mean it okay? You don't look like a kid. You look old…er than what I said. You look…erm."

"Twenty," she helped him out, "I turned twenty in December."

"Same age as my brother."

"Kurt?" he nodded. "Is he the one who keeps coming to meet you at work?" she asked, finished off her drink.

"Yeah, he doesn't trust me to do things by myself," he frowned, "even though I'm a year older than him." She watched as he scrunched his face up in thought, "and he always complains about what I wear. He's very fashion conscious."

Her face fell a little, "well, I suppose he wouldn't like me that much. I don't keep up with any of the latest fashions." Mainly because she didn't have the money to buy any new clothes though still, she didn't see the point in it. The most important thing was looking presentable and smart.

Finn smiled softly, almost shrugged, "I like your clothes. "

"T-thank you," she mirrored his smile.

* * *

It was later than she imagined when they came out of the coffee shop, the bitter wind nipping at her skin. She let Finn walk her home as they chatted away happily, Rachel a lit bit more excited from the coffee (she didn't usually drink it). Each second, she became more and more enthralled with him: everything about him. He even walked her to her front door, despite her argument that she could make it through her building safely.

"Goodnight Finn. Thank you for a great evening," she said, leaning against her door. It sounded like they'd just come back from a date, but it hadn't been one. All it was were an innocent cup of coffee. Nothing more; nothing less. So why was he looking at her like that?

No reply came from his lips, yet they were slowly inching their way toward her. This was it! Her heart leapt and began thudding wildly in her small chest whilst she watched him advance. He was going to kiss her! She stayed as still as possible, anticipating his lips on hers because, honestly, she'd spent at least ten minutes imagining the whole scene when he started talking about football.

She closed her eyes, waiting and waiting…and waiting.

When was it going to come?

Why was he taking so long?

Something wasn't right. As she reopened her eyes, she found that he was no longer near her, instead looking more conflicted than ever, his face screwed up in confusion. "I should go Rach."

He didn't even tell her goodnight…

* * *

Things were awkward after that. He would intentionally go out of his way so that he didn't have to talk to her which was pretty hard considering that she was _his_ receptionist. She hadn't told a soul, not Noah and Mercedes or anyone who she would have initially trusted. Maybe it was the embarrassment or being let down so easily or just the fact that she'd let him walk away and didn't even bother to ask what was wrong. She'd just stood there, like a fool, and allowed him to leave her like that.

And the biggest reason was that, if she repeated the story, she knew that she'd feel like crying again, though she didn't want to admit that she'd done so in the first place. Even when she looked at him, she wanted to ask so many questions, the first being "what did I do?" but she was afraid that she'd get the classic line, "it's not you, it's me, and that would be far worse than all of this so far.

So she kept her head down, and hoped that their communications were kept to a bare minimum. He insisted on only talking to her through the phone, unless he couldn't help it, which was actually better for her (it took her a while to convince herself) because it meant that he didn't have to see her confused, yet hurt face every time he looked at her.

She spent hours each night wondering why he'd stopped when he had, even though she knew that she was becoming desperate, attached. She'd never needed a man before so why did she need one now, and why was she letting him walk all over her?

* * *

She'd barely stepped into the office that morning when she heard her name being called, her attention being caught by Tina and Mike. A smile finally found its place on her lips, rather than the miserable frown she usually wore at work. In no time, she was next to them, "yes?"

Tina handed over a small card, "party at our place this Friday." Rachel noticed how much the woman was beaming and how happy she suddenly was. "You can bring a date if you want." As these words were spoken, an image of Finn appeared in her mind, which was quickly washed away by other thoughts.

"Thanks. What's it a party for?" she asked, still thinking about who she could take. No doubt Mercedes would bring somebody and Brittany and Artie were obviously going to go together.

For an answer, Tina waved her hands in front of Rachel, the ring sitting perfectly on her finger.

"Congratulations!" Rachel said, reaching to hug them both, feeling more than excited for them, "I'm so happy for you guys." The two shared a look of love, again giving her a pang of that same loneliness. Still, she needed to keep up the façade. Smiling brightly, she told them, "I should go and get to work so that you can have some _alone_ time." She raised her eyebrows as she said 'alone', a smirk creeping onto her face. Tina blushed furiously at this and Rachel took it as a moment to escape the loved-up atmosphere.

Who was she going to take to the party? If she and Finn were on a good note, then maybe she could have asked him, if he hadn't been invited already. She could take Noah, although he always managed to do something embarrassing at parties. Either that or he'd leave her half-way through the party to have sex with some random girl he met. But she didn't want to show up for it alone, especially since it was an engagement party and that was just be reminder of how little people she had in her life. She hoped that Noah wasn't busy on Friday because he was her only choice and, if she tried hard enough, she might be able to convince him to stay with her all night.

Sitting at her desk, she swivelled in the chair a few times to take her mind off the matter and turned on her computer. As per usual, Finn had left the piles of things she needed to organise on the desk, a list of what were the most important, sticky notes with small words scribbled on messily.

She obediently followed the list, going slowly so that her mind was concentrating on it for longer than normally. Each sticky note was scrunched up as soon as she'd finished with it, being carelessly thrown into a heap in the bin beside her. She felt like a zombie, just staring at the screen, face devoid of any emotion. This was how it had been for some time and she couldn't even stop herself from letting it happen.

Time had crept past her and she was finishing the work off, finding a small stack of sticky notes on a blank piece of paper. At first glance, she thought that they were just left there by accident but then she saw her name on it and picked them up.

_Rachel_ the first was said, the handwriting not perfect but it looked like they person had tried their best.

Curiously, she turned onto the next one. _I'm sorry for everything._

She frowned at this. Why were they sorry?

_I led you on and then just left you._

_I can be really dumb sometimes._

She noticed that her fingers were shaking. Now, she was sure that it was Finn who had written them and she felt relieved as she read his improvised apology.

_You deserve better than that._

_I'd like to be your friend again, if you let me._

Pulling it off, she almost panicked when she found the next one empty. That wasn't it, was it? She felt touched that he was telling her all of this and, more importantly, she felt happy that he wanted to get rid of the awkwardness. They could forget about that night and just look forward to the future, as friends. She frowned a little, the word "friends" wasn't exactly to her liking. Of course she'd like them to be more than that but maybe he felt differently. She didn't think that though. After all, he'd almost kissed her.

She pulled off more and more of the clear notes, hoping that he'd put something else, anything else. Finally, her wish was answered when the last one read _come to my office_. Reading it again, she checked to make sure that her mind hadn't changed the words and she was just imagining it all. But no, they remained the same, staring straight at her.

Finn wanted to make things right between them, again. She was reminded of how their relationship just felt like it was swinging back and forth: one day they were friends and the next one of them had done something to upset the other. Maybe it was just so fragile that anything could tip the scales of it.

Her eyes averted in the direction of the door, wondering whether she should go right now or wait until her lunch break. How long ago had he put the notes there? Was he waiting for her now? She slowly stood up and made the small walk to the door, noticing that –once again- Jacob was watching her intently. Before knocking, she shot him a warning glare though it didn't seem to stop him.

"Rachel?" she heard him say. How did he know that it was her?

She stepped inside, leaning against the closed door as she waited for him to say something else. When he kept silent, she spoke up, "I, erm…got your notes."

"I know." He stopped whatever he was doing, his full attention on her, "so, verdict?"

"Still friends," she couldn't help but smile, yet she wished that they could be so much more. He'd already gotten up, standing close to her. As she'd spoken, he'd pulled her into a great bear hug. One which she thought was going to crush her bones though it was still wonderful to feel his arms around her and she thought that she was going to drown of happiness in the "essence of Finn Hudson".

When he finally released her of his hold, he smiled down. "Friends," he eventually said. She nodded to him in agreement, still trying to get over the effects of the hug. "And I meant what I said…about being sorry. I truly am."

She could feel herself beginning to frown and covered up quickly. Was he apologizing for leaving her when he made her think that they'd kiss or was he sorry for actually going to kiss her? Rachel hoped that it wasn't the latter as that would just make her feel even worse. She wondered whether it would be a good idea to ask him to go with the part with her, but worried that he may take it the wrong way and, if there were anything she _didn't_ want to do, it was jeopardise the relationship again. There was only so many times that she could take. Besides, if he really wanted to go with her, he'd ask her himself and she wasn't counting on that happening any time so she supposed that Noah would be her first, and only, choice.

* * *

For once she arrived at the bar not needing a drink, instead hoping that it was Noah's shift already. She found him attempting to chat up a girl, who didn't even look old enough to have come to the bar herself, and was failing miserably. As the girl walked away, a disgusted look on her face, Rachel stifled a giggle.

"Smooth," she said, propping herself up in place of the other girl.

Noah frowned, "you always show up at the wrong time. She was wrapped around my little finger before you came." When he saw that she wasn't buying it, he changed the subject, "what do you want to drink then? The usual?"

She shook her head, "actually, I'd just like some water. I only came here to ask you something."

He looked at her like she was from another planet. "Water? Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes," she said crossly.

Shrugging, he got her said water and placed it in front of her, "I made sure it was cold. Just for you. How sweet am I?"

"Oh yes Noah. That's the way to win a girl's heart. I _can't_ see why the girl didn't enjoy your cheap chat up lines when you're so considerate like this," she said sarcastically, eyeing him.

"Whoa," he held up his hands, "someone's cranky today. You riding the crimson wave?"

"I can't believe you just said that out loud," she shouted whilst trying to be quiet, "and don't ever call it that again. It's disturbing."

Unfortunately for her, he didn't seem to have a problem with it, "so you _are_?"

She groaned loudly, "Noah, please refrain from talking whilst I ask you this question."

He leant toward her, gazing curiously, "go ahead my little Jewish American Princess."

"Would you like to go to a party with me this Friday?"

Scrunching up his face, he asked, "like a date?"

"No!" she insisted, "as my friend. There'll be free alcohol."

"Ah, you persuaded me Berry," he smiled, "I'll go with you. Wait, who's party is it?"

"Just a couple at work. They got engaged so they're celebrating with a party," she said, smiling happily at the end now that she had somebody to go with. Maybe she'd have fun with him too, if he doesn't go after any girls. Who was she kidding? Of course he would.

He began pouring himself a drink, stopping halfway to ask, "If it's people from your work, then why didn't you ask Finn? He's going, right? Or are you still pissed at him?"

A glare was quickly sent his way, "We're friends, okay Noah? And I wasn't even sure if he'll be attending the party, never mind if he'd want to go with me. I mean, he has so many girls to choose from at work and I'm not exactly the most attractive."

"I'd do you," Noah said honestly.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she tried to act annoyed, though the hint of the smile was there: at least he was trying to make her feel better about herself. Noah nodded, winking at her. "Men just don't go for my type," she explained, "they want a blonde with big boobs and an IQ of four."

"Mhmm, my dream girl," he joked. She frowned at him before turning away. "Hey, look," he began, "you're hot Berry and if he doesn't see it then he must be blind."

She smiled softly: That was probably one of the nicest things he'd said to her, "thank you Noah."

* * *

Due to their friendship once more being rekindled, Rachel felt a much happier person and found work enjoyable again.

"I have your coffee," she practically sang as she entered the room. They were in the room to the side of his office, which had been modified for his meetings with a large screen and an ornate table in the middle. She smiled as she saw him in his chair, seemingly trying to organise what he was going to say at the meeting. Placing down the mug, she sat on the edge of the table, noticing his worried face, "everything alright?

He glanced up at her, "I don't know which way to say these in. It sounds stupid one way and just not right the other."

She leaned over to look at the small cue cards which held each of the speeches, "here, let me see." As she read, she could feel his eyes burning into her face and tried her best not to blush. She was so close to him that she could hear his breathing; soft and slow. Placing a piece of loose hair behind her ear, she pointed to one of the cards. "That one first," she offered, "and _then_ that."

"You sure?"

Nodding, she smiled broadly at him, "of course I am. You trust me, don't you."

"Yes."

"Well then," she pointed to the cards, "you'll believe me when I tell you what sounds the best."

He placed them in the order that she'd provided and gratefully said, "thanks Rach. Wish me luck, eh?"

"Good luck," she told him sweetly, standing up and heading from the room. All the time, she didn't notice his watching as she left.

* * *

Rachel hoped that Finn was doing well in the meeting: she knew that he hated them (he apparently wasn't very good at talking in front of people he didn't know).

She had been sat with Brittany, laughing over the stories of some of the blonde's old boyfriends when the phone rang on her desk. In a very unlike her manner, she felt like ignoring it and proceeding to speak to her friends but it sounded louder and louder with each ring. "Excuse me one minute," she said, hurrying over to answer. "Hello, this is Finn Hudson's office," she said.

"Can I please speak to Finn?" a voice asked, and the person on the other end didn't sound particularly happy. Rachel noted that the woman, yes _woman_, had called him Finn rather than Mr Hudson, which was what he was normally referred to as.

Sitting at the desk, she replied, "I'm sorry. He's in a meeting right now (she heard the woman sigh on the other end). May I take a message for him?"

"Yes," she told her, "you _may_ take a message to him. Tell him that Quinn called and has just got off the worst plane journey in her life and is now waiting at the airport for her useless fiancé to pick her up despite that he promised he would be early. Instead he's in some stupid meeting. And tell him that if he isn't here in thirty minute she's calling off the wedding a-"

Rachel almost dropped the phone. She wasn't listening anymore.

She'd heard more than enough.

* * *

**I really hope that you liked it! It's a bit longer than usual. Please review :)**


	6. Good riddance

**Hey guys, sorry to leave you on a (sort of) cliffhanger! I'm still buzzing off the return of glee this week and so may have written a lot more on this chapter than I'd expected. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

She felt like somebody had thrown a bucket of ice cold water on her. Finn was engaged, to a girl named Quinn. Finn and Quinn. _How quaint_ she thought bitterly _their names match. _There was an uproar of questions in her mind. How long had he been engaged? What was this girl like? And, more importantly, why the hell hadn't she been told?

It wasn't as though he was at a loss of opportunities to tell her, seeing as they speak every single day at work and have met outside of work too. Was it really that hard? Her chest clenched in pain: that's what he meant by he's sorry for leading her on. That was it. Any feelings that she had for him were going to have to go. This was just too much for even Rachel to handle.

She'd trusted Finn and she'd told him things that nobody else knew about her and what did he do? He lied.

His office door opened behind her, causing Rachel to jump slightly, though she quickly hid it and pretended that she was deep in some work. She could feel his presence behind her and as he came to sit on her desk. "Thanks for helping me out Rach," he smiled, "they really liked it." She wanted to slap him so much; her fingers burned with the wanting to do so but she knew that it would probably get her fired. Her eyes slowly drifted to his and she just felt angry and hurt, but she shouldn't have been too hurt.

They hadn't even kissed. Well, he almost had kissed her but probably remembered that he was engaged to some other woman. How could he just play her like this with that fact always in his mind? She told herself not to cry: he didn't need to know what she was feeling.

"Erm," she bit her lip, "Quinn phoned." Her voice was so quiet that she doubted whether he'd heard or not. As expected, there was sheer panic on his face. _You've been found out_. "She says that you were supposed to pick her up and…she didn't sound too happy so I suggest that you go and pick her up." The way he scrutinised her face put her on edge slightly. Maybe her tone had been too emotionless, but she didn't care what he though, not anymore.

He slowly stood up straight, neglecting to get his jacket or briefcase, before walking out of the room hurriedly. Rachel heard him saying, "Quinn's gonna kill me," and, at that moment, she could empathise with that notion.

It had been merely five minute after he'd gone that she decided she needed to leave. The news was a lot to handle and she really wanted a drink, really badly. Standing up unsteadily, she grabbed her things and rushed from the room, trying not to let the tears fall.

After she'd searched the bar, finding no trace of Noah, she almost ran to his apartment. It was Richard who opened it; not at all please to see her. "What do you want Rachel?"

"Is Noah there?" she asked, knowing that she sounded like a desperate child.

"Puck, Rachel's here!" he shouted into the room. She stood in the doorway, desperately trying to keep it together when Noah appeared.

He looked panicked, or more than usual. Maybe it was because she never visited his apartment, due to a large disliking of his roommates. "What's wrong Berry?" he stepped outside to meet her, not at all surprised when she started to cry into his chest. "Shhh," Noah started, rubbing her back soothingly as he led her to his room, "tell me what happened."

Where would she begin?

* * *

"So, this guy's getting married but he was still playing you?" Noah clarified, "he's going to regret ever speaking to you at all."

"No Noah," she said, her sobbing now calmed down and she only gave the odd sniffle. Wiping her eyes with a tissue, she explained, "I just want to forget about it."

He didn't seem to think that that was a good answer, his fists clenching once more. She leant into his chest now, both of them staring straight ahead rather than at each other. His arm was around her protectively and she was wrapped up in his cover to drive the cold from her body. "But what about him lying to you? You can' let him get away with it!"

Though she hated to admit it, she said, "I think he already had." She dabbed at her eyes once more, "he didn't actually kiss me. He stopped before it got that far. The only thing he did do was leave me feeling terrible." She felt her bottom lip quivering again, hoping that no more tears would flow. Unfortunately, what she wanted and what she got were two very different things. "Sorry," she apologised to him, "for getting your shirt wet. I'm sure this isn't how you planned your afternoon."

Noah sighed, "Rachel, I just want you to be okay."

"You do?" she smiled.

"Ugh, don't make me admit to it again," he frowned, "it was hard enough the first time. Stop letting guys treat you like crap. You don't get anywhere."

She huffed, "I don't let them treat me that way!"

"But you do," he groaned, "You know what your problem is? You don't take control of the relationship if you don't trust them enough. Like, look at us, because you've known me for so long you have no problem in bossing me around but with guys like him, you act all sweet and innocent. Those girls are the ones who get their hearts trampled all over."

"So…you think that I need to be bossier?"

"No," he rolled his eyes, "I think that you need to stand up for yourself. Look, you don't take any shit from me so why do you take it from other guys?"

Honestly, Rachel had no idea why she had. He was telling her exactly what her problem was and how to fix it, but her mind just kept returning to Finn. Did he feel guilty for lying to her? She certainly hoped that he did, especially if it was the guilt that kept eating away at people until they couldn't handle it anymore. In her opinion, that would be a just result. She was stiff in Noah's arms, trying her best not to cry again. However angry she was, or furious, it still wouldn't be enough to drown the hurt that was aching in every inch of her body. If only she could make him feel it too, to have a taste of his own medicine.

"I want something really bad to happen to him," she confessed, "like being struck by lightning or hit by a bus."

"No you don't," he quietly told her.

"I do," she insisted, pulling up her knees to her chest, yet she was having more trouble convincing herself that she did. Sniffing loudly, she felt like a teenager again, crying over that stupid little boy who broke her heart too many times. Quietly, she laughed to herself, "I bet that I look like a mess." Her face felt sore and hot, whilst her throat was so scratchy that it pained her to talk.

He shrugged, "you look like a girl who needs to have a good night. C'mon, let's go somewhere." As he started to stand up, she remained still, "come on Berry. You're not spending the next few days moping around, getting drunk and then moping around whilst drunk." It sounded like a perfect plan to her.

Sighing, he went to pick her up, "I will carry you if I have to. We're going out whether you want to or not."

Rachel turned away from him, a firm look set across her features. "This is ridiculous," she muttered, "just leave me here Noah. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up."

"Stop being so melodramatic! Get off your arse and come on." When she refused to move an inch, he lifted her small frame up and over his shoulder easily. "Where to then?"

* * *

After a very long evening, they arrived back at her apartment, which felt cold and dark. Still in a mood from the choice of movie he'd picked, she stormed off into her bedroom before he'd managed to get a foot inside. He shook his head when the door slammed and went straight after her, lightly tapping the door.

"Rachel," he called into the room.

"Leave me alone Puckerman!" she shouted back at him, sounding like she was crying already. Did she ever stop?

He shook his head to himself, slowly opened the door, "I'm coming in okay?" As he stepped inside, he narrowly avoided being hit by one of the pillows that she'd thrown, "Jesus Berry!" She'd neglected to turn the light on, meaning that she was just sat in the dark, freezing room, spilling her tears onto her pillow, which she thankfully hadn't shot at him.

With a sad expression, he sat next to her. She looked at him through tears eyes, "do you think that he feels guilty Noah?"

"I don't care what he feels," he confessed, a little bitterly, "I just want you to stop crying."

She shot him a glare, "I can't exactly help it." Defeated, she leant her head against his shoulder, fiddling with the hem of her shirt, "I just want this to all be a bad dream so that I can wake up from it."

"Life doesn't work that way," he explained, "life sucks."

"You can say that again," she scoffed.

"We just have to learn to deal with it and get on with our lives, no matter how depressing they are."

"Are you saying that my life is depressing?" she frowned at him, her voice completely monosyllabic.

Noah realised that that probably wasn't the best thing to have said to her and was quick to correct himself. "'Course not," he frowned, "I'm trying to explain to you that you're not the only one who's gone through this and you won't be the last, so stop acting like it's the fucking end of the world." He didn't mean to sound so harsh at the end, but he was getting sick of Rachel letting it get to her.

If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.

Her eyes narrowed at him, she began to say, "You really don't know how to comfort a girl, do you? If you want a hint, it doesn't involve implying that she'd dramatic or making her feel like one in a long line of hopeless singles. Now, if you'll do me a favour, I'm going to cry again and I don't want you to be in the room when I do, so just get out."

"But I-"

She turned away from him abruptly, her bottom lip quivering, "I don't care Noah. "

After a long silent, he tried once more, "I know that you're upset an-"

"Upset?" she cried, "You _don't_ understand in the slightest." She couldn't have cared less if the tears were freely flowing down her cheeks now as she shouted the words at him, "he was…he was the first guy in years that I've liked, really liked. I trusted him Noah. You know how hard it is for me to let people in and then he just…threw it all back in my face. I feel like his guilty little secret, but most of all I feel used and unwanted."

No longer did she try to hide even the slightest bit of hurt from him. Noah's arms held her tightly to his chest, where she was able to completely rid herself of the pain until she just ached with a numb sensation. She didn't know what time it was, only that it were dark outside. He slowly began climbing from the bed, "I'm getting a drink. Do you want anything?"

She sighed, "I really want a beer."

* * *

Rachel woke up the next morning with the full attention of doing absolutely nothing all day, as she didn't have work, and merely being miserable. It sounded like heaven to her at the minute and she was positive that she would be good at it. It had been very late at night when Noah had, reluctantly, left to go back to his apartment. She'd pretended to be asleep, content with merely lying on her bed and thinking to herself.

It was the thinking that caused the damage. With each passing second, her mind would only aid the situation in escalating the events to a much worse degree, with only dampened Rachel's mood further, if possible.

She forced herself to get out of bed at around eleven, after sitting and staring at the ceiling, to go and do exactly the same thing in the living room. In her head, she could hear Noah's pissed off voice telling her to get a hold of herself. After a few days, or maybe weeks, she would return to her old self, or she hoped that she would. It was easier to tell herself that than admit that she would despise going to work for having to see him there.

The cover wrapped tightly around her body, she let her mind take her in whatever direction it pleased and willed herself to get over Finn.

It was her phone ringing loudly that brought her out of the hour long trance. She stared at it for a few seconds before finally answering. "Hello?" she sounded like the most depressed person in the world.

"Rachel?" she cringed as she heard _his_ voice, having half a mind to hang up but her fingers didn't budge. "Is that you? You sound different." _Well duh_. He didn't know half of what she'd been through in the last twenty four hours.

She didn't want to talk to him, but she could feel her lips moving, the words forcing themselves out, "I have a sore throat." It wasn't exactly a lie because the crying had, along with other things, caused her throat to become raw and dry. "What do you want?" she asked.

"I want to ask you something," he'd almost whispered through the phone.

If Noah was there, he'd have already hung up her phone and she wanted to do the same herself, to show Finn that she wasn't about to be messed around and prove that she was better than his stupid games. She _wanted_ to, but she couldn't. "W-what?" She was screaming at herself, wishing that she could listen to the voice in her head.

There was someone speaking to him on the other end and she realised, with much distaste, that this was again the voice of Quinn. "Could you come to my apartment? I need to ask you in person."

_Make up an excuse now! _"Actually Finn, I'm kind of busy. Noah and I have plans." That's it; make him jealous by mentioning another man.

Apparently, this worked as he seemed to lose his train of thought before being prompted by Quinn again. "Rach, please. This is an urgent situation. You're the only person who can help." She caught her breath, heart fluttering wildly as she processed the words. The logical and intelligent thing to do would be to tell Finn to solve his own problems and not to bring her into them anymore, especially when he was going to disregard her feelings in such a way as he had. However, at this time, Rachel seemed to have lost both those key components and found herself saying something stupid without doubt.

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

She tormented herself on the way to his apartment, though was glad that she remembered where it was as then she wouldn't have to phone him to awkwardly ask for directions. Repeatedly, she would ask herself what she was doing as it really was unknown to herself. Finn obvious wasn't interested in her: he was getting married. Still, she couldn't pry herself from his life. Noah had once called her hopeless…was she that bad?

Fearing the worst in the room, like him calling her there just to rub the relationship in her face (which she knew deep down was ridiculous), she paced outside the door for at least five minutes. Her fingers eventually tapped at the door three times and then she waited nervously for an answer. Any time had barely passed by before Finn had the door open. "Thank God," he outwardly showed his relief and welcomed her into the apartment.

It was has she'd remembered it the last time she'd been there, the only thing that really seemed different was that a blonde woman, supposedly Quinn, was standing in the middle of the living room with her arms crossed, a look of annoyance on her face.

"Hello," she said a little distantly.

"HI," Rachel turned her attention to Finn again, "I don't have long. Noah's waiting for me." Okay, it was a lie but the expression on his face was worth it.

"I'll be quick, I promise." She'd learned that she should _not_ believe Finn Hudson when he even as much as mentioned the word promise.

She found herself mirroring Quinn's body language, her arms defensively across her chest. "Well, what is it that's so important?"

Finn looked like he was going to speak, but it was his fiancé who beat him to it. "Finn screwed up." Her blue icy eyes narrowed at him from where she stood.

_You can say that again_ Rachel thought. When Finn's eyes managed to lock on hers for a mere second, she turned away in the direction of Quinn, "how?"

She took slow steps forward, her designer boots clicking against the oak floor. "He was given one job," she began, rather calmly, "out of the whole wedding plans. That was to book a wedding singer. You would think that it was simple, even for him but no, he had four months to book one and he decided to tell me this morning that he had 'forgot to look'" She looked ready to rip Finn's head off, though Rachel wouldn't argue that he didn't deserve it. "And now we can't get a single wedding singer because they were all booked weeks ago!" It was as though Rachel wasn't even there, with Quinn angrily staring at Finn, who in turn was doing his best to avoid her.

When it felt safe to speak up, Rachel shrugged, "I'm struggling to see where this involves me."

The woman once more realised that Rachel was present and leant away from Finn, her face softening slightly. "Finn, in an attempt to regain any respect from me, has said that he knows a wonderful singer who would happen to be you."

Rachel glanced up to Finn to see whether he had anything to add as she was at a loss for words once more. He gave her a half smile. "You'll be better than any professional singer we could hire."

She resisted the urge to smile. "I-I don't know what to say."

"Please say that you'll sing at the wedding," Quinn said, a pleading look in her otherwise hard eyes.

"What's the date?"

"April 1st."

Quinn added, "It'll be our four year anniversary."

Hiding her frown, she said, "how nice." She pretended to be thinking, knowing that she didn't have anything planned for that day at all. "I'm free that day if, of course, I have work off." Her eyes caught his smiling face.

"You're a life saver Rach."

"Yes," Quinn agreed dryly, "you're certainly saving someone's arse." She glanced over to Finn with raised eyebrows. "As for paymen-"

"Don't feel obliged to pay me," Rachel lied, "just think of it as my wedding gift to you guys." She thought that, if Finn was going to act like he didn't care, then so was she. He could have a taste of what he's been handing out to her.

Hearing this, Quinn appeared happy with her reply and didn't go to speak again, but Finn soon ruined that for her. "No, it wouldn't be right. At least let us do something nice for you. How about we take you to dinner?"

"I wouldn't want to get in the way of," she gulped, "the two of you."

"You could bring someone." She notice when Quinn frowned at Finn with more irritation, yet he still carried on, "a friend…or a date."

Rachel shrugged, preventing her stare from going too near him, "it all depends on Noah."

"Is Noah your boyfriend?" Quinn asked curiously. Finn and Rachel replied at the same time.

"Yes he is."

"No, he's her friend."

The two shared a glance of worry, before Rachel found more lies spilling from her mouth. To Finn, she explained, "we made it official a few weeks ago. I thought that I told you?"

He cleared his throat, "no, you didn't…mention it."

"Sorry," she smiled casually, despite inside feeling terrible and guilty.

It was Quinn who split up their seeming staring competition. "So, a double date then? How about tomorrow?"

"Sure." Rachel pretended to be interested in her phone.

"We can talk more about the plans for the wedding," the blonde replied to which Rachel nodded curtly.

"Certainly."

It seemed strange now, the two girls dominating the conversation when, a few days ago, Quinn wouldn't have even been here and Rachel would have been enjoying herself with Finn. As she glanced at him, he was looking down at the floor, a look of something similar to regret plaguing his eyes.

She was going to make him feel far worse than that. As Noah had told her, she had to stop letting people take advantage of her and she was going to start this new version of herself on one Finn Hudson.

* * *

She found him playing a game of pool with some of his workmates when they were supposed to be behind the bar. "Oh, hey Berry," he said as she stood next to him, "couldn't keep away from me, eh?"

"On the contrary, this is the last place that I want to be today." She glanced around at the bar which, though still modern, was full of middle ages greying men who had nothing else better to do. "I just really needed to talk to you."

With a smug smile, he played his shot and glanced at her. "What about?"

Rachel looked at his other workmates, who were intently listening in on the conversation whilst pretending to be interested in their next shot. Sighing, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to the corner where she wouldn't have an audience. He frowned at how tense she was, "what's wrong Rachel?"

"I screwed up," she mirrored Quinn's words from before, unable to get the blonde out of her mind. She knew that Quinn was much more beautiful than herself, with a conventional pretty face and her long fair hair whereas Rachel whereas she was basically the exact opposite; dark thick hair and an exotic looking face, the thing she hated the most being her bigger than average nose.

"How?" he didn't look happy about it, and folded his arms sternly.

She began to explain. "Finn phoned me this morning (she saw Noah's eyes roll) and he said that he had something urgent to ask me. I tried to say no, really, but in the end I gave in. I know that it was stupid. I just couldn't say no to him. So, I went to meet him in his apartment, where Quinn was too." Noah was glaring at her with a look of disbelief and annoyance, "long story short, they couldn't find a wedding singer and they asked me to do it. I couldn't exactly refuse. They offered to take me out to dinner with them, as a thanks and said that I could bring a date…"

"And let me guess," he began, "you want _me_ to be said date?"

"Well, yes," her gaze avoided his, "I may have mentioned that you were my boyfriend."

"What? I thought that you wanted closure on all of this Berry?" he was shaking his head, "you're so fucking unbelievable! If you were a guy, I'd totally hit some sense into your right now."

A frown deepened into her face, "Noah!"

He didn't seem sorry in any way. "You know that you'd deserve it."

"I know," she said, appearing more frustrated than ever. "But I don't think that I can get closure on this thing. Mainly because he doesn't even realise that he's done something wrong. So, I'm going to get the next best thing," her eyes glistened wickedly, "revenge."

There was a moment as Noah tried to process what she was telling him. Eventually, he spoke once more, "I guess that there's no point in persuading you to do the sensible thing?"

She nodded. "I have to do this."

"But why?"

"Just," she faltered, "…because."

"So you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend at this date tomorrow?" he asked slowly.

"Yes," Rachel replied, "if it helps, you don't have to pay for any of the food…"

He replied sarcastically, "oh yeah, _that's_ what I was worrying about." Watching her carefully, he finally asked, "and you're _sure_ that you want to go through with it?"

"Yes!" she groaned.

"I don't want you to do something that you'll regret," he informed her.

"Just tell me whether you'll come or not!"

A little unwillingly, he said, "I can't exactly say no, can I? After you've already agreed." He was momentarily shocked when she practically pounced on him, her small arms catching him in a tight hug. With her height, her head was burrowed into his shirt, whilst she mumbled "thank you" over and over again. Usually, he wouldn't let her hug him in public but he knew that she just needed someone to be there for her in this hard time.

When she pulled her head back so that she could look up at him, she said, "You're my best friend Noah. I owe you so much."

"I know," he laughed. "At least I'm getting a free meal out of this. Where are we eating?"

She shrugged, "Finn said that he's text me the place and time."

He began to speak when a whiny voice had interrupted his own. "Noah Puckerman, isn't this a 'blast from the past'?" Still in his arms, he felt Rachel noticeably tense against his chest, her breath stopping abruptly. "What are the chances of seeing you here? The both of you in fact. Hello Rachel."

Noah felt himself protectively holding the woman, his eyes full of anger and hatred at the man Jacob. His blood was boiling and his hands felt hot with the need to hurt the man who's done so much to the girl beside him. "Get the hell out of here. What the fuck do you think you're doing within a hundred miles of Rachel?"

"It's a free country," he sneered, sitting on one of the bar stools, yet his eyes still hovering over to Rachel. Noah stood in front of her, his jaw locking.

"I said, get out or I will make you get out." When he'd first found out of what things that Jacob had done to Rachel, he'd sworn that, if he ever saw him again, he would beat him to a pulp yet, now being older, he realised that it wasn't the right thing to do. The best he could ever do would be to make sure that Rachel never had to see this man again, or had to relive the memories. Of course, he wanting to hurt Jacob, so much, but it wouldn't be justice. It would just be relieving the anger that, up until now, had been dormant inside of him.

To stop himself from hurting Jacob, and most likely getting arrested, he got his work mates to escort him off the premises, so that he could speak to Rachel.

He sat her down in the back and gave her a few minutes to compose herself before he began. "I can't believe that little maggot. Out of all the bars in this city, he had to pick _this_ one."

Rachel glanced up at him with her tears eyes. She whispered, "Noah, I don't think that it was an accident…"

"What?"

She wiped her eyes with shaky hands. "I didn't tell you," She took a large gulp, her wide brown eyes shining, "t-this isn't the first time. He w-works in the same building as me."

"…and you didn't think that that was important enough to tell me?"

"I'm sorry," she started, "I didn't want you to worr-"

He held up his hand to stop her. "Has he done anything to you?" To him, that was more important than the fact that he wasn't informed of it.

Shaking her head, she sighed. "No. Finn scared him off before he could say or do anything else." Noah was evidently relieved of this, though shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Rachel frowned, "I think that he's following me again."

"We can't know that for sure," he said quickly, as if to rid the suspicion from his own mind, "but just…keep an eye out Berry. I don't want you getting hurt again and who knows what he'll do this time?"

She head was spinning with worry. "I can't handle it again…"

"I know," he said quietly, "but it's not going to come to that. I'm not going to let it." He sat next to her, their arms touching when he felt her hand take hold of his and squeeze it tightly. It was unnatural, seeing her so quiet, as she often liked to talk, mostly on subjects to do with herself. Her eyes met his, all the worry in the world drowning in the deep brown, and he squeezed her hand back.

He was glad to see the presence of a small smile of her lips.

* * *

Having the next day off also, Rachel most of it trying to figure out what to wear. She knew that it was a trivial thing which really shouldn't have been important, but she wanted to show Finn that he messed up. She'd told Noah to at least try and make an effort to look nice, though she didn't expect him to.

Anyway, she'd been more concerned about herself and what she would look like. They had reservations for five, so she had a long time to get ready and hopefully with no interruptions. She's curled her hair carefully, making sure that each strand was in the perfect place and that took longer than planned. By the time she'd managed to get her dress on, the only one she had that was befitting for the occasion, Noah stepped into her apartment. "Berry?" he called, "You ready yet?"

She walked from the bedroom, "yes, but I'm nervous Noah."

"Why?" he frowned.

"Because," she said, "it's painful watching the two of them together. You wouldn't understand." Walking up to him, she smiled at his appearance: he was wearing black trousers with a shirt and even a tie. "You clean up well," she ran a hand through his Mohawk, "but this is getting too long."

He pushed her hand away playfully, "well, there go's me with a compliment."

With a paused, she teased, "and what would that be?"

"I was going to tell you that you look very beautiful. If your plan is to make Finn insanely jealous, then it's going to work." He held out an arm, which she graciously took and said, "Let's go rock this date."

"I couldn't have said it better myself."

* * *

He helped her out of the taxi before paying the driver and leading her into the restaurant. "This place looks swanky," he commented, "good thing we aren't' paying, right?"

"Noah," she scolded when his words had come out a little too loud and the group next to them stared. "Finn's coming!" she suddenly panicked when he calmed her by slowly placing his arm around her waist and holding her near to him.

He whispered into her ear, "Just pretend that you're acting a part in a play and you'll be fine."

"Hey!" Finn called, his overly happy face suddenly in front of them. At first he hesitated, then slowly greeted Rachel through pressing a kiss to her cheek and then went to shake Noah's hand. She felt paralysed: she'd expected some sort of contact like a hug or something similar though not a kiss and, much to her distaste, she'd enjoyed it more than she should have. "My brother Kurt insisted on coming with his date. They're more involved in all of the planning than I am so they're interested in meeting you. I hope that that's okay."

"It's fine," she forced a huge smile onto her lips, letting Noah take her after Finn into the room. The door opened and she was shocked at how extravagant the whole room was. Each wall was covered in decorative wall panels, a series of expensive lighting carefully placed in certain points of the room and there was even a water fountain in the middle of the room! She'd expected a normal restaurant where she didn't feel as out of place as ever.

They were led to the large table beside the window, looking out over the entire city, and were greeted by the remaining guests. Quinn was, as she thought she would be, not as eager as the others.

"Hello, I'm Kurt," a man stepped forward, his flashy suit probably the most extravagant of the guys, and held out his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you," his voice was high and enthusiastic. He placed his hands on the other man's arm, "and this piece of eye candy is my husband Blaine. We are the esteemed wedding planners of the Hudson-Fabray wedding."

"It's nice to meet you," she smiled at the both of them. "I'm Rachel and this is my boyfriend Noah." She gestured toward Noah, who shook both of their hands. To Noah, she also said, "and you already know Finn, but this is his fiancé Quinn." Noah, like Finn had done to Rachel, kissed the blonde on the cheek before pulling out Rachel's chair for her. She smiled at him as she took her seat right in between Finn and Noah.

It was Blaine who first broke the silence. "So Rachel, Finn tells me that you're from Lima too. It's a small world, right?"

"Yeah," she said, instantly feeling at each with this Blaine man, "Noah and I are both from Lima. We went to McKinley High. Did you go to Dalton with Kurt?"

He nodded, "it's where we met for the first time. We've been together ever since." She felt herself smile for the endearing couple before her as they shared loving glances.

Noah's hand rested on hers on the table when Kurt asked. "How did you two meet?"

"Well," Noah leant back in his chair, "I was eight and Rachel was seven and we were at The Temple for Passover and, thinking that it was funny, I tripped her up. I started laughing and the next thing I knew, she had me pinned on the floor. I guess we just became best friends afterwards. It's impressive when girls are stronger than me." Rachel sighed, smiling broadly at him. Though it was the true way that they'd met, she'd expected him to make something up that was a little…well, _romantic_.

"That's so cute," Blaine said, turning to Kurt, "why didn't we meet like that?" The other man looked at him with a funny expression.

Rachel decided to include Quinn and Finn in the conversation more, seeing as it may make her plan work even better. "What about you?" she looked from one to the other, "I don't think I've actually heard the story."

Quinn smiled at the sudden attention, no doubt opening her mouth poised to give a long, detailed story of how it was love at first sight when Finn, his eyes scanning over the menu, stated, "we met through our dads."

"Oh," she paused, thinking of a way to get more details: he clearly wasn't going to talk much about it, "how long have you known each other?"

Similar to last time, Quinn wasn't given a chance to speak. "Four years." If that had been Rachel, she would have been upset, but the blonde couldn't have looked angrier at her fiancé. Instead, he had his head stuck in the large menu, "I think I'll have the duck," he changed the subject. Noah sent Rachel a look as if to say 'is he always this weird? She merely shrugged in reply, though inside she was hoping that it was the jealousy beginning to eat away at him, which was horrible and unhealthy, even for her, but true.

The others seemed to notice a change in Finn too and dared not ask if he were okay. "I'm dying to hear this voice of yours Rachel," Kurt said, "Finn says that it's quite something."

"Her voice is on fire," Noah said, moving his arm to rest around her shoulder, "when we were kids, we'd sit in my room and I'd play my guitar whilst she sang. I never got tired of listening to that voice."

"You play the guitar?" Quinn asked with a soft smile, "I love people who play instruments. I never really got a chance to learn with my cheerleading taking up most of my time."

"I play the drums," Finn's voice appeared unannounced, his eyes slowly reaching over to Quinn.

She sighed, "I meant _real_ musical instruments. The drums just make noise." Once Finn had once more averted away his gaze, she refocused on Noah, "how long have you been playing?"

Smiling back at her, he said, "Since I was nine. I decided that I needed another hobby other than beating up the nerdy kids."

"But you still proceeded to beat people up, _despite_ what I told you," Rachel challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"I told you baby," he said, "You can't change the Puckster."

"Oh God," she muttered under her breathe. It was bad enough when he did it with her but on a table with four other people in the fanciest place she'd been in years made it seem even worse. She glared at him when he was about to add something else on and his mouth instantly closed.

Just in time, the waiter appeared at their table, a thick French accent as they said, "may I take your order?"

Rachel glanced at her own menu, wondering whether she could get anything that suited her eating habits. Usually these restaurants never catered to vegans and she became anxious as she saw a lot of meat dishes. Others began to order whilst she scanned desperately.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Finn lean closer, "don't worry Rach. They do vegan things. I checked before we came." Taking her menu, he turned it over and pointed out the right section.

"Thank you," she smiled genuinely, feeling a lot more relaxed.

* * *

She didn't have too much wine, for fear that she'd slip up with the whole her and Noah supposedly dating thing, but she noticed how Finn would watch her every time the wine glass touched her lips. Was he worried that she'd drink too much? The same couldn't be said for Noah, who was enjoying the free wine and using it as an excuse to have as much as he wanted.

Taking another bite of her mushroom risotto, she tried to ignore his speech on the Mario brothers, one that only Blaine seemed interested in. "Rachel," she heard Kurt say, looking at the smiling man," I must say, I absolutely love your dress. Is it Alexander McQueen?"

She nodded. The dress was the last thing that she'd truly 'splashed out on' during her college years and she was rather proud to own it. "It's one of my favourites," she added.

Resting his chin on his hand, he continued, "It's going to be fun when we get your outfit for the wedding."

"My outfit?" she frowned in confusion.

"Yes," he said, smiling as though she'd said something foolish, "your dress has to match the theme and so, I need to decide what it's going to be. I'm the main planner after all. I think that a soft pink with do you just fine, especially with your complexion and it'll have to be designer obviously."

"But I don't want it to be too expensive," she tried to argue though he wasn't having any of it.

He shook his head slightly, "it's fine. It's all in the wedding expenses. You don't have to pay a dollar. Anyway, you'll sort of be repaying them back by actually singing. I heard that you said you'd do it for nothing."

"I'll only be singing," she explained, "I didn't want to be paid for it."

"And you won't be. You'll just get a beautiful dress in return," he said happily. Still, she didn't feel right for taking something when all that she would be doing was her passion, which was singing.

She took a small sip of her wine, "what are you going to be in the wedding?"

"Best man," he said, "I _wanted_ to be the maid of honour but apparently Quinn's friend Santana is. Still, I get to be a part of the wedding so I'm not complaining."

"Not now," Quinn joined in, obviously having heard her name, "but you have been for the last few months.

"That's because it's not strictly a female role!" Quinn shook her head at him, before returning to speak to Finn in a hushed voice.

Rachel smiled broadly at him. She realised that she liked Kurt a lot as he reminded her of her father Hiram with his flamboyance and confidence. Maybe this dress shopping would be fun rather than a disaster, as a lot of her shopping trips had been in the past. And she was sure that she'd heard him mention Broadway a few times to Blaine, a conversation which was definitely up her street.

She soon realised that Kurt had begun speaking to her once more. "…and maybe we could start the shopping sometime next week? I know that it's a little early but I'll feel a lot calmer when everything is out of the way."

"That sounds great," she smiled, "just tell me when and where."

He stretched out his hand, "just give me your phone and I'll get your number. Then I can just ring you." She did so, watching as he fiddled with her pink phone, talking at the same time, "Blaine will be coming too of course. He knows exactly what's perfect for every individual person." Though Blaine wasn't looking, he still smiled at him, "it's a gift."

"It's nice to know that I'll be in capable hands."

"Honey," his face turned serious, "you are in the most capable fashion hands in the world."

* * *

She couldn't have been more annoyed at Noah, seriously. When Quinn had asked Finn to drive her downtown, he just had to offer to save Finn a journey. Not only that, but he'd suggested that Finn drive her home instead as they live closer together and it'll take less time in the cab. She would have happily ripped his head off, if she wasn't still trying to keep this façade up with Finn. Instead of being angry, she'd just given him a long kiss and left with Finn to get into his car.

Sitting in the front, she leant away from him awkwardly.

"Rach," he said over the hum of the radio in the background, "you look beautiful tonight." His eyes were sincere but she was only reminded of the lies that he'd told her. Despite this, a blush managed to creep onto her cheeks.

"Thanks," she replied, not really knowing what to say back to him. As he always wore a suit to work, she couldn't exactly comment on his change of attire.

His knuckles were white as they gripped onto the steering wheel. "And I want to say thank you properly for doing this. You could have said no, but you didn't. You're really awesome."

"I am, aren't I?" she grinned, feeling more confident. Her body slowly turned to face his, leaning a little more comfortably in the leather seat.

"You don't need to tell me twice," he said, looking straight ahead. He seemed to be arguing with himself until he said, "Noah's nice."

"Until he starts talking about video games," she complained, noticing Finn smile. Why hadn't she said something complimentary about Noah? Whining about him isn't going to make Finn jealous! "He sort of ignored me all night." The words had come out so quickly that she didn't even realised she'd said them.

He nodded, "I know that feeling. I think that Quinn's pissed at me."

Rachel looked up at him, seeing the genuine guilt on his face and she actually felt sorry for Finn. "Why?"

"Something about me flirting with other girls…"

"What other girls?"

Finn struggled for the words. "Well…mainly you actually."

"We weren't flirting," she smiled at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement.

"I know!" he agreed, a frown suddenly forming on his lips, "but when I told her that she just shouted some more." Rachel dropped her head down guiltily when he started to babble to himself. "The way that she said it…like I was in love with you or something."

A pang in her heart surprised her.

She forced out a laugh, "that's silly."

He cleared his throat, unable to look at her, "totally."

By now, they were near her building and she couldn't wait to get out of the car to a tensionless outside air. The drive had returned to the initial silence, but apparently Finn was not happy with that. "Are you going to Tina and Mike's party tomorrow night?"

"Yes," she said. Biting her bottom lip, she tried to tell herself that the gaze he was giving her wasn't anything romantic.

"Me too. We could…go together."

"I'm going with Noah." At that moment, she would give anything to turn back time, especially when she saw his face crumple into a frown. She shouldn't feel bad for saying it but she just wanted to please him so much that it hurt, "you're welcome to come with us if you like Finn. If he starts ignoring me again, I'll always have you."

His frown flipped over. "Of course."

Tapping her hand against the side of the seat, she said. "I thought that you would be going with Quinn."

His face scrunched up, though he quickly realised and let his features slide back into neutral. "She's busy planning for the wedding. It's all I ever hear about."

"Oh."

The street was dark when they got out, a small lamp lighting the whole of the entrance to the building. Rachel had insisted that she could go up herself, as she'd done hundreds of times before, but Finn was adamant to walk her back. She couldn't exactly tell why though as he didn't say anything the entire time, only taking quick glances in her direction.

They reached her apartment, waiting at the door again. "Thank you for paying for my meal tonight. It was lovely."

"It's my pleasure," he said nervously. He looked like he was about to pass out as he spoke the next set of words. "Rach, I need to do something before I regret it. And I don't want you to freak out, but I just really need to get it out of my system before I snap, okay?"

What? Was he going to hit her or something? She was certainly confused, but still whispered back, "okay." It was stupid to just agree without knowing what he was going to do and, considering their whole history, she knew that it wasn't the best of ideas. Still, she'd done what her gut had told her to and she had to face the consequences.

He held her arms softly, leaning down and thrusting his lips on hers. She felt dizzy, anxious, happy, excited and scared all at the same time. She felt drunk off of his kiss and never wanted it to stop. This is what she'd been waiting for and, now that it had come, she couldn't have been happier.

But…

Finn was getting married.

They wouldn't have their happy ending because he's chosen someone else.

It was too late.

When his lips detached themselves from hers, leaving her feeling weak and powerless, he gazed at her sadly before leaving.

Yes, it was definitely too late for her.

* * *

Rachel Berry knew that she was an emotional person.

Still, never before had she been crying so much, except for the night she lost her fathers.

* * *

Work was terrible. They both knew it. They could barely look at each other, let alone talk.

"Are you still coming to my party tonight?" Tina asked her before lunch.

She glanced over to Finn, who was talking to Mercedes. "Sure." Of course, she wasn't in the mood for a party but free alcohol was always good.

* * *

Rachel and Noah arrived arm in arm, both smiling widely. "Right," she said, "I don't think that Finn is coming so feel free to chat up any girl that you want. I don't even care. If any of my friends ask, you're my date though, okay?"

"Sure," he nodded his head to the beat of the music, leaving to find a hot girl.

She went over to talk to the happy couple, realising that their sickeningly joyful moods were just making her even more depressed. When she got the chance, she left them to talk to Mercedes, who was having trouble with her boyfriend.

"He's just getting so paranoid," she explained, looking to Rachel for advice.

The brunette took another large swig of her bear, "yup. I totally get that 'Cedes. Guys are idiots and, the sooner we learn that, the better. You should tell him to quit being such a fuc-"

"Whoa girl," she stopped her, "you've been drinking way too much. Look at you, you can't even stand up."

"I'm fine," she shook her head, laughing when she felt herself stumbling around. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Finn enter the room and was suddenly determined to talk to him despite their antics earlier that day. "Excuse me," she said loudly, managing to stay upright long enough to get to him. "Finn!" she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulder.

He smelt her breath, pulling a face, "oh, Rach. How much have you had?"

When he tried to pry the bottle from her fingers, he earned himself a smack over the head. "You don't get it, do you? This is your entire fault," she pointed to herself, "you've been playing me Finn Hudson."

"What? I don't understand," he held her arms to keep her from toppling over, "come on, just sit down."

"No," she said like a stubborn child, drinking some more. Her finger swayed in front of his face, "I'm not listening to you Finn. All you do is lie to me and make a fool out of me."

"You're making a fool out of yourself," he whispered harshly, dragging her in the direction of the kitchen.

She pulled back, having to lean of the wall for support. "When are you going to learn? I'm not going to do what you say anymore. I've stopped hanging on your every word! You know why?" her laugh filled the room, "I just don't give a crap!"

Finn watched in shock as she threw her hands up in the air, giggling before looking straight at him, "I don't care what you think anymore. You like me and then you don't. Why Finn?" She shook her head, "you're only interested me when you're not feeling guilty about you fiancé who, for the record, you didn't even tell me about."

Her voice now calmer, she said, "Were you just going to carry on? Let me think that I was the only girl you liked? How long were you planning on messing with me Finn?"

"I-"

"Shush!" she held a finger to his mouth, unsteadily keeping it there, "I'm done Finn. I'm done with your little game."

He looked desperate, "please, Rach."

Her head was thumping loudly but she continued despite this. "There's only so many times you can hurt someone and you've gone past my limit. You take me out, almost kiss me and then flat out ignore me. Next you introduce me to your fiancé and the _kiss_ me on the same night. That's just fine, is it?

"No, of course not."

"Of course not!" she almost screamed, gaining every last bit of attention in the room. "So, why did you do it?"

Grabbing her arm, he tried to take her into the kitchen again though she quickly shrugged it off. "What part of no don't you understand? I am not just some slut that you can kiss and then not be expected to feel anything from it. I'm a person Finn and I thought that you cared about me."

"I do," he tried.

"But clearly not enough," she emptied the bottle, almost throwing it in his hands before walking (or try to walk) away. Finally, she turned around and said, "Oh and, by the way, I quit. Good riddance."

* * *

**Uh oh, that can't be good. Don't worry, the end is in sight. Only two more chapters left. :) Please review**


	7. Oh Finn Hudson you're a mess

**This chapter took me forever! I hope that it was worth the wait. :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

The cold night air was shock to her and the first thing she did was let her stomach empty itself, her hand pressed against the wall. With a few coughs, she wiped her mouth and tried to remember which was it was back to her apartment. Each step felt like a chore and, soon enough, she yanked off her heels so that she could walk better.

She resisted the urge to throw up again, walking down the alley that she was sure were a shortcut. "Rachel!" that must have been Noah calling, not that she cared: she could get home herself "Where the hell are you Berry?"

Honestly, she would have happily crawled into the nearest gutter and just wasted away, but her feet kept willing her to move forward. She was unsure why everything was spinning and the world seemed dim, or maybe that's just how miserable she was. Losing control, she felt her body slam against the hard, wet ground and forced herself up onto her hand and knees. It was difficult to stop the world spinning and she was overwhelmed by the emotions welling inside of her chest, growing to a painful size.

She'd messed up with Finn.

By now, he probably despised her: all she ever did was make things difficult for him and he was too nice to admit it.

With her, his life would be full of confusion and doubt.

Without her, she knew that it would be simple. Finn would marry Quinn, in the future probably have kids and get his happy ever after.

She, on the other hand, was never going to get there. Her life was nothing like the fairy tales which her parents had ready to her every night, filling her mind with false hopes and dreams. Noah had had described life in the simplest way; it sucks.

And now, Rachel Berry was once more jobless though this time through her own actions rather than anyone else's. She hadn't even been fired. All that she knew, and believed, was that she couldn't face Finn every day after he'd kissed her. The feel of him joining with her on a such an emotional level had been overpowering and utterly wonderful, and she didn't want to see him with another woman, or to sing at their damn wedding. So, she _had_ to leave. Not to mention that her shambled appearance at the party was probably a good reason to fire her and she'd be surprised if Finn wouldn't have done so.

Ignoring Noah's frantic calls, she crawled nearer the grimy wall to lean against it. The world was suddenly that little bit more solid and she closed her eyes as she sucked in a great breath of the cold air. Unfortunately, this led to long coughs that eventually caused her to throw up again, her limbs feeling as wobbly as jelly. Rachel couldn't even stand up.

Her eyes were unfocused on the alley ahead of her, mouth limply hanging open as she leant backwards in hope that she'd feel better. "Oh, for fuck sake," she heard Noah complain, clearly near her. Through her blurred vision, she could make out his figure coming towards her and lifted up her hand to keep him back but it was a weak fight. He wrapped his arm around her waist and hoisted her up so that he was holding her steadily. After little resistance, she let her head lean against his shoulder, trying to mumble something to the man. The small bounce in his step did not help with the sickness and she'd had to tell him to stop more than once just so that she could feel slightly less nauseous.

She recalled him taking her to the apartment and gently placing her on the bed. Despite feeling absolutely horrible, she'd tried to sit up and get out, but Noah had been there to hold her back, the look of sadness in his eyes. "You really messed up," he whispered and she knew that it was true. All of her words had been out of spite, spontaneous and bitter. She could remember his face as she told him that she was quitting and his voice calling after her was clear in the mind, the only thing that was clear. Noah's fingers were gripping her as if he was afraid she'd do something else just as stupid.

Once again, she'd managed to get close to somebody and then let it all blow up in her face.

Maybe this is how it was supposed to go. In the master plan of life, she was meant to end up alone. Glancing up at Noah, her best friend, her _only_ friend, she hoped that she wasn't going to drive him away like she had done with everyone else.

She didn't know whether she'd want to go through this life completely friendless.

Rachel had thought that Finn could have been different to all those others, that perhaps the two of them could have shared something, if not a romance. However, she knew that having anything but a romance would kill her. It just hurt so much to think that Quinn could kiss him whenever she wanted, hug him, hell, and even touch him when she felt like it. She thought back to her kiss with Finn, how right it felt despite knowing that they shouldn't have been doing it, and how pained she was when it stopped. She'd give anything to feel as happy as she did at that moment, but sadly nothing else could make relive the strong emotions, now that Finn was taken.

If he hadn't been with Quinn, then perhaps the two of them would have worked out, or was she just suffering from hopeful wishes? She'd learned that optimism got you nowhere.

None of that mattered anymore.

She'd left, quit her job.

After her little adventure, she'd ended up right back where she started; running away.

Now she didn't have to face him every day and, yes, it would ease the pain though only slightly. Nothing could stop her mind from taunting her constantly. After all, you couldn't run away from yourself, no matter how much you tried.

The grip on her hand slacked and she could focus enough to see him beginning to stand up. "Please…don't." The words that should have followed never came. She was going to tell him not to leave her alone: she didn't want to be alone. She never had. When Rachel had been younger, she'd always reminded herself that it was lonely at the top, but she wasn't at the top. She was right at the bottom and it _shouldn't_ have been so isolated there.

* * *

He stayed with her until the morning, his anger at her slowly turning to pity as she just stared off into space, unable to sleep all night. Noah hadn't understood why she hadn't listened to his advice in the first place or why she'd kept making the same mistakes, but he still had to be there for her. He was her only family left.

* * *

Finn finally gave up on phoning Rachel, slumping back in his car and running a hand through his dishevelled hair. Ever since she'd walked out of the party, he'd been worried sick about her, especially considering what had happened last time shed been in such a state. He thought that he'd spotted Noah going after her, but everything had been such a blur that he couldn't be so sure. So he'd tried to phone her, leaving at least ten voicemails, and had received nothing in return.

He frowned, unsure of whether to go looking for her. If Noah had found her, then she'd probably be in his apartment or, at least, safe but there was always the chance that she was still out there, unable to fend for herself.

With a residing sigh, he forced himself out of the car and into his building. Usually, he would take the elevator though instead took the, rather long, option of the stairs so that it would take longer to get to his apartment where Quinn would be waiting. He'd lied to Rachel about why Quinn wasn't going; his fiancé hadn't even wanted _him_ to go and it was because of her. He'd known Quinn for years and so, had learned that she always got what she wanted, if it was a new dress, or a to go out somewhere, or even if it was _him_, which she most certainly already had; not that she believed so. They'd argued about the party, why he needed to go and he'd tried to explain that Tina and Mike were his friends, but her question had caught him off guard.

"Is she going?"

He'd frowned, "who?"

Quinn narrowed her icy blue eyes, "Rachel. Is she going to be at the party?

"…yes. She's going with her boyfriend," he told her slowly, "look, Quinn, I need to go or I'll be late."

To this, she hadn't said a thing, but merely watched him with a hard expression, making it clear that she was now pleased he'd insisted on going. She hadn't said another thing to him before he'd left as if to prove the point.

Now that he thought about it, he knew that he was being unfair to Quinn. After all, he'd never really hid that he liked Rachel. When he'd been convincing her that Rachel was the best person to be a wedding singer, he'd spoken of the girl as if the ground she'd walked on was sacred so, sure, Quinn had a reason to be pissed. Still, she could have believed him when he'd told her that nothing was going on between the two if kissing her passionately meant nothing. A faint smile brushed his lips as he remembered how wonderful it had felt to kiss her but he was immediately drowned by the guilt for technically cheating on his fiancé. He still felt bad that Rachel could make him so happy, even her smile which was bright and dazzling, and left him utterly defenceless against her.

He stepped into the dark apartment, still with the brunette on his mind, to see sitting on the sofa, the dog curled up next to her. Her eyes were closed, a few strands of her hair having fallen in front of her face. Finn took a minute to stare at her, sadly so, as he was reminded that more people were getting hurt by his actions. He didn't want to do this to Quinn or to Rachel; he just couldn't stop himself from screwing up sometimes. Quinn was his first love and he'd promised himself to her, to their future together but Rachel coming into his life had just confused him. Was it fate that he'd found her that night? Or just a coincidence that it had all happened? He let the question linger.

Finn frowned as he thought some more, knowing that it would just confuse him further and still proceeding to do so. He could tell that work was going to be strange without Rachel, not seeing her bright smile every morning as she brought him a coffee. She'd been working for him for almost four months and he'd found that their little conversations were the most enjoyable parts of his day when he knew that it should have been Quinn that was the best part of his day. He'd never questioned that he didn't love Quinn, but did he love her as much as he used to?

He felt guilty for even thinking about, for even letting the words slide into his mind. Yes, he loved her yet…was he _in_ love with her? They very rarely went on dates, especially with all of the planning, and if they did it just wasn't as fun anymore. Thinking back to when he and Rachel went for a coffee, he was instantly filled with that warm feeling that seemed to be lacking in his relationship with Quinn.

It wasn't fair to her.

It _really_ wasn't.

The overbearing guilt was returning with a vengeance, completely suffocating him. He hated being so confused, unable to know what was right anymore: he didn't even know what _felt_ right. Taking slow, shaky steps, he reached Quinn, placing a kiss to her forehead. He wanted to feel that passion for her, that dizzy in-love moment when their skin so much as brushed past each other.

He didn't.

Instead, he only had to think about her to feel the instantaneous guilt punch him in the stomach relentlessly and he hated it. Of course he didn't want to feel this way. With Quinn, he wanted to be happy and to make her happy but you can't always get what you want and right now, he wanted Rachel so much that it hurt. If he told Quinn, which he was most certainly not going to do, she would literally kill him and maybe Rachel too.

Noticing the blonde slowly opening her eyes, he panicked. "Oh hey," he said quickly, "I was just about to go to bed."

She smiled at him, clearly having forgotten earlier this evening. "Have fun?" she asked, sitting up straight and glancing up at him curiously.

"Not really," he shrugged, feeling his palms go sweaty from the nerves. "Erm…Quinn?" Though he didn't realise it, his voice was suddenly a lot higher.

Quinn did and her eyes narrowed toward the man, knowing that something bad was coming. "What did you do now?"

He gulped, "…we need to find a new wedding singer."

* * *

Her head were banging, mouth dry and every limb ached.

When she opened her eyes, the headache only became ten times worse, and she groaned loudly to herself, trying to remember what had happened. Her shaky hand tried to calm her throbbing forehead with little result and she threw herself back onto the bed, hoping that she could just go back to sleep.

The light attacked her eyes, making her hide under the cover.

As the door opened, she felt her heart skip numerous beats: had she slept with someone last night? She tentatively pulled the cover from her eyes, hoping that she hadn't done anything stupid whilst under the influence. Noah had stepped into the room, a glass of water in his hand and some fruit in the other. "You sleep like the dead," he commented, placing them down next to her. Though, in the most caring voice she'd heard from his, he asked, "Are you feeling alright?"

"No," she whined, holding her head, "I feel awful."

She took a mouthful of the water, pulling a face as it ran down her throat. Next was the fruit, but a few grapes left her feeling full and ready to be sick. Noah shook his head at her, "I think it's a fucking miracle you're alive, considering how much you drank and I was about ready to kill you."

Feeling guilty, she glanced away from him, wanting to close her eyes and return to sleep. "I'm sorry."

He looked grave. "There's err…something that you should know…about what you did last night."

"Oh no!" she gasped, the words feeling like a bomb had gone off in her head before she whispered, "Was it bad?"

"Rachel," he said softly, his eyes meeting her own bloodshot ones, "you and Finn…"

Her hands covered her mouth, "I've done something stupid, haven't I?" His expression answered the question and she herself scrunched up her face, "please put me out of my misery!"

"Well- you, erm-got hammered last night and started shouting at him- about how he's been treating you like shit and stuff. By then, everyone was watching, but you carried on yelling and he was tryin' to fight back. He said that he cared about you. And then you-well, you quit your job and stormed out, leaving me to have to take you back home. You always did pick the wrong times to be dramatic…"

The blood pounding in her ears, she stopped listening to his words and sat, frozen, on the bed, her mouth agape. "I quit?" she asked in disbelief, breaking his rant.

His gaze was quickly on her, mouth opening and closing as he realised that he didn't have anything to say. All he could do was nod. He didn't know what to expect from her: maybe to be angry at herself or perhaps she would be glad that she'd finally got out of the strange thing she shared with Finn (which undoubtedly would leave her heartbroken) but he didn't anticipate the girl just falling apart in front of him. What happened to the strong girl he once knew? Why did she have to have constant disappointment in her life? He glanced up, as if questioning God himself and frowned, letting her sink into his arms, her body racked with tears.

"You can find another job." Even as he said it, there was no optimism in his words and it seemed to make her cry even harder.

"I feel terrible."

He paused, "do you want some ibuprofen?"

"The hangover isn't that bad," she told him, "I mean, why do I have to do this all the time?"

"Do what?"

"Be a complete _fucking_ idiot."

Now he was knew that it was serious. Rachel Berry would only ever curse if there was a serious problem or if she completely lost her mind, but Noah thought that it was most likely not the latter. He felt his grip around her tighten protectively, the only girl he ever _had_ and _would_ do this for and he tried to calm her down to quiet sobs.

He patted her back and sighed, "You're not an idiot, okay? I know that sometimes you can be a bit much but you're definitely _not_ an idiot."

She shook her head, staring at him through her water, pained eyes, "but I am! I push people away because I don't…I _can't_ trust them."

"You're gonna have to learn Berry," he told her.

Her fingers wound around each other nervously, "I don't want to."

"How many friends have you got?"

"…one." She looked straight at him, her bottom lip wobbling uncertainly.

"Exactly!" he said, "and what if something happened to me? You'd have nobody."

"I never said that the friend was you," she glanced at him, a smile slowly appearing on her fear and he was so relieved that'd done so that he didn't care that she was teasing him. "A bit full of yourself, aren't you?"

In a strange moment of affection, he ruffled her hair and said, "I hate you so much Berry."

Her head rested against her shoulder, her lips curved into a temporary smile, "I hate you too…and thank you…for bringing me home last night."

"It's not like it's the first time…" but he _hoped_ that it would be the last.

He felt her hand in hers, gripping tightly. "Do you think that I have a problem?"

Not really understand what she'd said, he asked her to repeated the question and found that, second time round, he still was left confused. "A problem with what?" he picked up one of her grapes, popping it into his mouth when he noticed that she was shaking slightly.

She wouldn't look at him or even near him and he tried not to get frustrated when she took her time to reply. "A problem with my drinking," she finally said.

Before he could stop himself, he'd returned to his insensitive self, "took you long enough to fucking realise! I thought that you didn't care?" He laughed loudly, seeing her wince at the harsh sounds in her ears and stopped.

"So you're saying that I _do_ have a problem?"

Her sore eyes looked at him in disbelief. He thought that she already knew, judging by the fact that she couldn't really go a day without drinking something that was alcoholic. "Well, _yeah_."

"What?" she screeched, instantly holding her head in pain. She then spoke in a more controlled voice, "why did you never tell me?"

"I thought you knew," he said in defence. "You're drunk at least once a week. Maybe that's a sign!"

She averted her gaze, "I am?"

"…yes."

"That's so…" she shook her head, unable to absorb the information. She knew that she liked to have a drink and sometimes she'd go a little bit too far, but that was only whenever she needed it, like when she was trying to forget something. Now, staring Noah in the face as he told her what she'd been ignoring, she was shocked. "Finn was right."

Noah frowned, "what?"

She threw her arms down like she was having a tantrum, "I'm so stupid!" Her face crumpled into one of sadness before she asked him, "Why didn't you try to stop me?" Just to prove how angry she was, she smacked his arm, making his own fist hurt but she did not let it show.

"Ow! Because I knew that you'd do that!" he stared at her with wide eyes, before muttering to himself, "always the fucking drama Queen."

With a firm frown, she hit him once more, "language Noah!"

"You _just_ swore yourself!" he squabbled. "You act more like my mother every day. You Jewish woman are all crazy!"

Rachel folded her arms across her chest, "take that back."

He narrowed his eyes, "no, I meant it."

"I'd hit you really hard if I wasn't feeling so terrible right now."

At this, he smirked but then he gave her the water again, "you need to drink this. You're dehydrated."

"Thank you Doctor Puckerman," she said sarcastically, though still taking a large gulp. She even tried to eat a little bit more but her stomach was having none of it. Eventually, she gave up and turned to Noah, "will you let me go back to sleep now?"

"Fine, fine," he told her, standing up, "if you're not up before four, I'll be gone. _Some_ of us have jobs to go to."

She knew that he'd meant it as a joke, but it wasn't amusing at all: she no longer had a job and she really, really needed one. At the minute she had enough money for one, maybe two months left in the apartment and…then what? Above everything, she was certain that she would not beg her landlord for an extension. There was no way that she'd owe him money again. The door closed behind Noah and she remained frozen in the spot, left only to worry about her future.

And, the more she thought about it, the more she wished for Finn. She shouldn't have, especially after everything, but she did. It was sad really that he was probably the person she thought about the most. She would give anything just to know how he truly felt about her. After all, they'd kissed and it wasn't just any old kiss, it was real and honest, and she knew that he felt something too. Taking another sip of the drink, she returned to the position she was in before, curled up tightly under the covers. The last thing she thought before she went to bed was whether Finn loved her or not. Of course, it would be easier for all of them if he didn't…well, not her, but him and Quinn. Whereas, if he did, even a tiny little bit, she would be happy…for now at least.

* * *

"Do you think she'll let me back in yet?"

Kurt's eyes narrowed at him and the man took a long sip of his drink, as if trying to increase Finn's guilt. Finally, he spoke, "probably not. I'm surprised that she hasn't murdered you, considering all the worry you're causing her over this wedding." To avoid his brother's fierce glare, Finn looked down at his hands.

He searched for the right words, the ones that wouldn't make the situation ten times worse, "I'm so stupid." He knew that now: Quinn had shouted it at him at least a hundred times. "It's my entire fault that Rachel quit and now I've fucked up my own wedding." Sighing, he burrowed his face in his hands, shaking his head.

On his shoulder, he could feel Kurt's hand pat him softly, "you'll find another singer. We have a few weeks left."

Finn frowned, "that's if she still wants to marry me. I-I'm a terrible fiancé."

"Finn," he began, half amused at the way that his brother was acting, "it's not the end of the world. So she quit? You have other friends at work and, if we can't find a singer, I suppose that _I'll_ have to offer my unmatched services."

Again, the man was shaking his head quickly, "you don't understand. She quit because of me."

"Why would…?"

It was strange to see Finn being so nervous, his eyes darting around the room as they scanned out anything suspicious. "I kissed her." The words were so quiet, laced with sadness and guilt.

"You kissed her!" he dramatically placed a hand over his mouth, "not the best idea Finn."

"I know," he snapped, "it's just…" His face contorted into a pained expression, "there was something there. I can't explain it Kurt…whatever I felt with her…it was special."

He gazed upon his brother in sympathy, "look, you're probably just nervous about the wedding. It's natural. I bet that you'd feel something "special" with any girl. I'm sure that Quinn'll understand. Now, just go and do some more grovelling and everything with be back to normal in no time."

"But what if I don't want it to go back to normal?"

Kurt was slightly startled by the loud outburst. "Finn, what are you saying?"

"I-"Finn glanced down, "do you think that you can love two people at once?"

"Love?" he screeched, "I thought that we were just talking about a kiss? How can you love her?"

"I don't know," he held his hurting head. At this moment, he felt so distressed and confused, having spent the whole night at Kurt's, he wasn't allowed to go home until he'd "salvaged their wedding", lay awake in bed, thinking why he'd done all of those things. After all, there were lots of other women that he worked with, some of them being extremely attractive; Rachel certainly came under that category. What made her so different from the others? He'd never taken them out one to one and, he admitted a little guiltily, he knew hardly anything about their personal lives whereas he knew so much about her. For a while, he was content on telling himself that they were good friends, _really_ good friends, but that just didn't feel right anymore.

He wanted to be more than her friend.

Kurt was frowning deeply, "Finn, what do you mean you don't know? You just said that you might love somebody, that somebody not being your fiancé.

He groaned, "Stop reminding me about Quinn!"

In response, he earned a wide eyed stare, "well, _somebody's_ got to remind you because you can't seem to remember, especially when you're kissing other women."

"I know," he was defeated, shaking his head in shame. "Quinn deserves so much better. I just can't stop thinking about her."

"She'll forgive you, don't worry."

He hesitated, "no, not Quinn…Rachel. I can't help it. I worry about her every day. She's been through so much. She's so broken. She tries to drink it away but pretends that she's fine. She isn't. I just worry that one day I'll find out that she's seriously hurt or worse, dead…like dad."

Despite them being in a crowded coffee shop, Finn let his emotions take the better of him and began to cry. Kurt pulled him into his arms, "oh Finn Hudson, you are a huge mess."

* * *

He had been calling her for hours, checking every five minutes to see if she'd called back. Still, she was unresponsive and he knew that she must have been moping around the apartment _again_. That's all she'd done for the past four weeks. Usually, after something like this, it took her a week at the most to get the sadness out, or how long she thought it necessary to show him, being a drama Queen. This was ridiculous: she wasn't even dating this guy and he'd turned her into a weepy, miserable recluse.

And now he had to take care of her. That meant that his social life took a hit. He hadn't been for a date in what felt like forever and he was gagging for a girl right now.

So, he'd done a double take when he was phoned by Quinn. It was true that he thought she was smokin' hot, but she was definitely taken. Still, he was glad when she'd asked for his number and had gladly given it.

"Hey there sexy," he flirted with the hint of a smirk.

"Puck." Okay, she sounded upset so maybe it was time for caring Puck.

"Are you alright?" When he didn't get a reply, he asked, "Do you…want me to come over?"

The response was rushed, "yes."

* * *

"Do you want something to drink?"

"No."

"Something to eat?"

She sighed, "No."

"…do you want anything?"

"No."

That wasn't true. She did want _something, _but this something involved just sitting in the same spot she had for hours thinking about what went wrong in her life. She always comes to the conclusion that someone up there must just not like her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Noah roll his eyes, letting out a frustrated grunt. "Why're so you being so fucking stubborn?"

* * *

It had taken longer than he'd hoped yet he was finally allowed to return to the apartment. Kurt was glad, claiming that another day in his presence would send him over the edge and he'd offered to drive him there himself.

At first, he thought that he'd blown it with Quinn, though that was until she'd showed up at Kurt's and pulled him into the tightest hug in the world. "Finn, I'm sorry. I was angry when I kicked you out. I wasn't thinking straight. Please come home." He'd barely registered the words before he said "yes".

Kurt shot him a glare from across the room. "But I've got to tell you something first. Just…please, please don't hate me…"

She pulled away, "what is it?"

"I-I kissed Rachel, the night when we all went for dinner. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know what I was thinking."

He was ready for anything from her. Shouting. A smack in the face. Mainly just angry Quinn, but she smiled, she _smiled _and said, "Finn, it's okay. Let's just put it all behind us and start fresh."

"Everything?" he asked.

Her eyes looked guilty for a moment, but snapped back as she smiled, "_everything_."

So now he was back in his apartment, feeling a new lease of life in him. He looked around, finding that all was as he'd last seen except that Quinn was being much nicer. Not that she wasn't before, it was just that, if he did something wrong, she could be a little critical. And she even cooked him all of his favourite foods, though he couldn't complain: it all tasted pretty awesome.

Yes, he was glad to be back home.

But there was still a certain someone on his mind.

* * *

Four boxes of things.

That is literally all she had to her name. No money, no place to stay…she had nothing. She _was_ nothing.

Noah helped her carry them to his place. It was going to be her temporary home, though it wouldn't even be hers and she would be sharing it with three other guys. It didn't help that Richard disliked her either, despite having never spoken to her properly. Noah's other roommate, her new one, was Sam and she hadn't made her mind up about him. He seemed nice enough but just not really too interested in her. Still, unlike Richard, he wasn't as hostile towards her: he's surprised her with a 'welcome hug'.

The first night was hard. Though Noah had offered her his bed, she insisted on having the sofa, wanting to feel like less of an intruder. She wrapped herself in the blankets, letting them hug her with warmth. She'd been feeling so cold lately and lonely, even more so than before.

In between her series of unresponsive days where she'd plain refused to eat anything, she had ones where she just felt empty. She'd always been overdramatic but she had taken it to a new step.

She let the tears fall as it was just something she'd become used to. Everything was overwhelming, all of those terrible things that were plaguing her past, her present and her future. The bullying at school, seemingly so insignificant now but it was the start of it all. Then, Jacob and his advances toward her. The death of her fathers. The 'death' of her Broadway ambitions. Her lack of jobs and then, finally, Finn.

They all led to this.

Now, she was technically homeless with no money whatsoever.

She should get a job, she _needed_ to get one.

Who would hire her? Finn had, but that was only through pity, she knew. It was always pity.

"Hey Berry, do you mind keeping it down?" she turned to see Noah, now only realising how loud her sobs were. He was rubbing his eyes, only dressed in a vest and his underwear.

"I'm sorry," she said sadly, wiping her eyes.

He slowly made his way over to her, falling casually onto the sofa. "Do you ever stop crying?" he asked.

"You suggested that I stay here," she sniffed, "you have to put up with it."

"I guess I do," he said dryly.

Sat on opposite ends, they shared a look. Her eyes darted about, before stopping on him nervously, "Noah, why do bad things keep happening to me?" It sounded selfish, she knew. Bad things happened to people all over the second every day. What made her so special? But then again, lots of other people had a much better life than her. She thought that she at least deserved a break from it all.

"Ber- Rachel, it'll get better."

She shook her head, "no it won't. It never does."

"You really believe that?"

"Yes." She nodded, looking down.

"You used to be optimistic."

"People change. I've changed."

He smiled, "not so much. You still cry when you're watching one of you lame ass musicals. You still get that look in your eye whenever you sing and you still don't let me get away with anything. In short, you're the same. You've just hardened over the years, you've put up barriers because you don't want to get hurt. We're just going to have to break them down so that everyone can see how awesome you can be, especially Finn. He'll realise how big a mistake he made by messing with you." Happy with himself, Noah leaned back with a smug smile.

Rachel, too, smiled. "You know, for an idiot, you can be pretty wise sometimes."

"I'm not an idiot!" he laughed, leaning closer to her to wipe the tears away, "now, can I go back to sleep without being interrupted?

Laughing, she nodded, not before pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

They smiled at each other as they fell onto the sofa in a fluster of giggles. He kissed along her neck, his eyes closed as he traced along the skin. She was warm against him when their mouths met once more. His hands groped her eagerly, things suddenly heated.

"Oh Finn," she whispered, catching him in another kiss.

"Oh Rach," he spoke back.

His eyes flew open.

Everything halted.

Oh shit!

"W-what did you just call me?" Quinn frowned at him, her own eyes disbelieving.

* * *

"Kurt, can I stay at your house for a few days?"

"What have you done now?"

* * *

"Dude, sort you fucking girlfriend out! She'd been drinking since noon and refuses to get off the couch."

"She's not my girlfriend," Noah furrowed his eyebrows, forehead creasing. "I'm almost home," he hung up the phone, picking up his pace. What the fuck have you done Berry?

* * *

"Noah!" she jumped up excitedly at the sight of him, almost bouncing across the room to catch him in a bear hug, her body swaying back and forth, "I missed you." She was grinned, the smell of alcohol prominent. In the doorway, Richard glared angrily at them. Rachel giggled to herself, tracing circles along his chest as he held her upright.

"Berry, what are you doing?" he groaned, "I told you to stop fucking drinking!"

She looked like a guilty child. "I couldn't help myself." Her face returned to the giddy one as she laughed for no reason. He hated seeing her like this; he hated it more than anything. Her grip tightened on him and her face pressed against his chest. "You smell awesome," she whispered.

"Err…thanks," he tried to guide her onto the couch so that she wasn't about to fall over. She blinked, glancing at him with confusion as he walked over to his beckoning roommate. They entered the kitchen, closing the door shut behind them. "What the hell do you want?"

"I want her out!" he frowned.

He was in complete shock, "what? Why? Do you know how much shit she'd going through right now?"

Richard was adamant, "I don't care. Before you came back, she tried making something to eat and almost set the fucking kitchen on fire."

"You let her try to cook? In _that_ condition!" he pointed in the direction that she was in, seething. He'd always known that Richard hadn't liked her, but he never thought that he'd make her live on the streets.

"Well, what was I supposed to do? She doesn't listen to me, does she?" his hands were flailing about angrily as he spoke.

"Make her!"

A voice filled with venom, he said, "I don't want to waste my time trying."

"You're such a heartless bastard. You'd really kick her out?"

"Of course I would!" he shook his head, mouth open, "she doesn't have a job, she does nothing but complain all day and she drank all of my beer. You better tell her that she had to pay for that."

Noah rolled his eyes, "for fuck sake, can't you see that she just needs time to heal? Maybe if you stopped being such a douche it'd happen faster."

His roommate now had his arms crossed, glaring at his with dark eyes. "If she's staying, she needs to get a job soon. And tell her not to touch any of my things. If she gets drunk again, I won't hesitate to throw her out."

He nodded in understanding. As the door opened, he panicked when he thought that it was Rachel but Sam stood before them, looking confused. "What was all the shouting about? And why is Rachel passed out on the sofa?"

Richard was still shaking his head, silently seething. "Nothing, "Noah lied, "just a little misunderstanding."

"Were you fighting about Rachel again?" he asked with a sigh. The two shared a glance and he was clear that they were, "I'm so sick of you arguing all the time."

"It's her fault!" Richard snapped.

"You're just going to have to put up with it dude, she lives here now so suck it up," he told him, beginning to leave.

This was unappealing to the man. "Fucking unbelievable," he muttered. Noah went after Sam, not before sending a smug smile in his so called friend's direction, something which wasn't received well. Just as Sam had said, Rachel seemed to have collapsed on the bed, her arms and legs sprawled all over the place.

Sam looked up at him, "he can be a real dick sometimes."

He nodded, "thanks man, for sticking up for her."

"No problem," he said, glancing around awkwardly for a place to sit down. Noah sighed and pick up Rachel easily, placing her in his bed where she could rest in peace for a few hours. He joined the blonde, who was now intrigued in a shooting game.

"Mind if I join?"

"Be my guest," he didn't take his eyes off the screen. After a few minutes of the dying zombie's screeches, he spoke again, "so, what's going on between you and Rachel? Are you dating or what?"

Noah looked bewildered, "fuck, no. If we were dating, she wouldn't be spending the nights alone on the couch. And it's gross just thinking about it. She's like my sister…she just as annoying as her too."

"Yeah," he agreed, "she has you wrapped around her little finger."

"What the hell? She does _not_."

"Keep deluding yourself man," he smiled, then more seriously saying, "You look worried Puck…what's wrong?"

He sighed, not wanting to talk about it much. "Nothing man." He took out his rage on the five zombies that were getting in his way, splattering the blood all around. "Actually," he thought that it was in his head but ended up being spoken aloud. Sam was looking to him, completely abandoning his role in the game, "I-I" he rubbed his chin; "shit…I don't know what to say. She's worrying me."

Sam frowned, "why?"

Noah put the pad down, sinking down further into the seat, "I haven't seen her take anything this hard since her dads died and Ja- well, never mind about _that_. What if she's getting depressed again?"

"Again?"

"Yeah," he said, "she's always been dramatic and over the top, but this is ridiculous. I hate to see her like this."

Nodding, he probed more, "and the drinking…is she normally that bad?"

"Don't get me fucking started on that," he ran a hand through his Mohawk, watching as Sam gazed at him with sympathetic eyes. _He_ wasn't the one that needed sympathy, Rachel was.

* * *

She couldn't believe that she was doing this, why she'd even answered his call, but here she was, going to meet Kurt for lunch. To her annoyance, he'd kept the details brief and that had only left her more curious. What did he possibly need to talk to her about?

She could see him through the window, in the far corner, sitting confidently with a magazine in one hand and a coffee in the other. Once more, he was dressed to impress, a stylish hat tilted on top of his head. Taking a deep breathe, she took a step inside, still questioning her motives. He was Finn's brother, after all. Was he here to rub the relationship in her face?

"Rachel," he smiled, standing up to place a kiss on each of her cheeks before gesturing to the seat, "Sit down."

She did so, messing with the hem of her skirt. "I was a little curious when you called me Kurt," she admitted, "seeing as I'm no longer the wedding singer…"

He waved his hand to dismiss her comments, "this isn't about the wedding, well, if there is going to be a wedding."

For a moment, Rachel is in complete shock, though her years of acting classes helped her to keep it together. "What do you mean?" she asks calmly.

The man's eyes search hers until he says, "Finn's having problems. He's a little confused right now." He takes a large gulp of his coffee, making sure that his hair is in the perfect position. Rachel, on the other hand, seems to be having a hard time processing the information. Had she ruined this wedding for Finn?

"What do you mean…confused?" she finally questions.

His fingers tap against the mug, "he doesn't know what he wants." He then shrugs casually, "it's something he's always found difficult."

She nods, despite not understanding fully. What was Finn having trouble deciding on? Well, knowing him it could just be what meal to have for his dinner. Kurt was observing her reaction carefully, trying to find out her true feelings. Still, she could mask them well and that was exactly what she planned on doing.

"I've tried talking some sense into him, but he won't listen."

She frowned, "Kurt, what do you want me to do about it? I quit my job…"

"…because he kissed you," he said, seeing her shocked reaction, "Finn told me. He feels really bad about it you know? He misses you." _More than you could imagine._

"So?" she shrugs, although inside feeling a small smile crying to get out. After everything that he'd done, those three words put her right back at the beginning, feeling utterly desperate.

Kurt sighs, "Rachel, I need you to talk to him. Try and make him see sense."

"No!"

"Why not?" he leans closer.

She is already shaking her head, "I can't, just can't. I don't _want_ to see him."

"But he's your friend."

"He most certainly is not!" she glared, knowing that it wasn't right to take this out on Kurt: he was only trying to help. She stood up, "now, is there anything else that you want to ask of me, or are you finished?"

He looks at her, noticing the dark eyes and pale face. She's skinnier than he remembers. He straightens himself, "you're right. It's not my place to ask that of you. How about we just enjoy this lunch together? I was disappointed when I found out that we couldn't go dress shopping."

At first, she was completely taken aback- he had so suddenly changed the subject- but she liked Kurt and she needed to get out of this depression that she'd sank into. Slowly, she sat back in the chair, seeing him smile broadly at her. "I don't think that I can afford this place," she glanced around at the vintage decorations that must have cost a fortune meaning that the food was probably expensive food, not that she could afford cheap food anyway.

Kurt smiled, "it's my treat. Besides, you look like you haven't eaten properly in weeks. We need to get some colour back into those cheeks." She let out a small laugh, looking down, "and hey, maybe we could still go shopping? I mean, it's fun with Blaine but he can be such a boy sometimes."

Grinning, she nodded; glad that something other than alcohol was helping to forget Finn. Though, only slightly.

* * *

"We need to talk."

She'd arrived unannounced at the apartment, demanding that they "discuss their issues."

"Ladies first," he said, eyeing her slowly. Though they hadn't spoken in a few days, she still looked the same, maybe a little more down heartened.

She bit her lips, for once appearing insecure: a feature rarely seen on Quinn Fabray. "You called me Rach when we were making out," her eyes were filled with hurt as she glared at him, trying to be strong. He nodded, not really knowing what to say. The only thing that he was aware of was his heart pounding quickly in his chest. "Were you thinking of here instead of me?"

This talk was already too much for him and his rubbed at his forehead. What could he do now? He couldn't lie to her, not any more. "Yes," he averted his gaze to the floor, "I'm sorry Quinn."

"What do you feel towards her Finn?" she sighed, fighting back the tears, "because it's clearly more than just friends."

He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Hell, he couldn't even think straight.

"Tell me!" she snapped.

"I don't know," he admitted, slowly turning to face her, "at first I thought that it was just a crush. I thought that I was missing you so much that I liked her for that reason, but then you came back and things between us were weird. And then, when we went out for that dinner, I was so jealous of Noah even though I had you. I knew then that it was more than a crush and I kissed her, hoping that it would prove me wrong, that I wouldn't feel anything." His face was scrunched up, like he was going to cry, "But I did feel something. And now that she's gone, I think about her, a lot. Quinn, I'm sorry."

He was breaking down, his outstretched hands meeting her cheek but she pulled away. "Don't." she was still trying not to crack, despite her boyfriend having told her that he had feelings for someone else.

"D-do you love her?" she managed to get out through the lump in her throat.

"I-"he cut himself short, "I love _you_ Quinn."

She shook her head, "not in the same way. You don't think that I noticed the way you stared at her, the love in your eyes? I'm not stupid Finn!"

"Please Quinn, don't do this."

He couldn't lose Quinn, not after everything. "Don't you see? You don't love me."

"I do, I do," he repeated over and over, taking her hands in his.

"No, you don't!" she tore them away, turning from Finn so that he didn't see the tears. "I understand Finn… we were young. Daddy introduced us and it all just seemed to fit. He liked you. I liked you, so it made sense to get married."

Finn was getting closer and closer by the second, muttering, "Quinn, please."

She gave him an affectionate smile, wiping her damp eyes, "Trouble is we never fell in love, did we? Oh you love me, in the same way that you're love a good friend, but that's not enough. I thought it was until recently."

"What do you mean?" he was quick to ask, trying to take hold of her hand again.

Why didn't he understand? He was making this harder than it needed to be. "Why do people get married Finn? Because they're in love and they want to spend the rest of their lives together!

He frowned, "bu-"

"Don't say it Finn! I'm doing this for the best. For both of us."

"You're breaking up with me?" he looked so sad yet Quinn knew what the right thing to do was. After ignoring it for so long, she was facing that their relationship was built on just accepting what was expected of them and just being content with it. Sure, she cared about Finn. Having known each other for years, it would be strange if she didn't, but she knew that, just as he wasn't in love with her, she wasn't in love with him.

She nodded, "yes, I am. We don't belong together, well, at least not married. I hope that we can still be friends."

Instead of speaking, he stared ahead, his eyes completely unfocused. "Friends?" he finally questioned, a certain hesitance in his voice.

She furiously prevented the tears from falling, "yes." This was hurting a lot. What was her father going to say? What would her friends think? She stopped herself, questioning why she cared so much about that. This was for her and Finn so that they could be happy and find that special love that they'd always wanted.

"What made you realise all of this?" he sounded defeated, quiet and sullen.

Her cheeks flushed, "Finn, I did something terrible."

"W-what?" It couldn't be much worse than what he did with Rachel.

"I slept with Puck."

"Puck?"

She shook her head, "Noah, but that's not the important bit! Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes," he whispered. His eyes were wider.

Waiting for what seemed like forever, she practically begged, "Say something."

"What can I say? I can't be angry because I almost did the same thing, I wanted Rachel so badly." Though it pained her to hear him talking about another woman like that, she bit her lip and remained silent. He was, after all, a single man now and was entitled to do whatever he wanted. "Quinn, I've been horrible to you. I apologise for everything." His face was soft and caring, and he held out a hand for her to shake.

She let out a tiny laugh through her tears and sadness and pulled him into a hug, "don't apologise Finn. It helped s both to realise what we wanted." He nodded, still watching her slowly, "so this is really the end?"

Pursing his lips, he said, "I guess so. We'll have to tell our parents." He shuddered at the thought of his mum becoming angry at him for this but, glancing at Quinn; he knew that she had it a hundred times worse. "Quinn," he began sincerely.

"Stop," she held up held up her hand, "it'll be fine. I'm young. It's not like I'll never find a husband."

"Yeah…"

They stood in silence before she reached up and kissed him on the cheek, "good luck Finn…with everything." And with that she made her way from the room, the door closing shut behind her. When it opened again, he thought that she'd come back, to tell him that it was all some joke, but Kurt was in her place, looking at him with genuine concern.

"Me and Quinn broke up," he said.

"I'm sorry," he rushed over, placing a warm hand on his shoulder, "who…"

"She broke it off. Well, we both did…sorta," he glanced up at his brother, "we weren't in love." Still, he knew that he would always care for the girl, the girl who set him free.

* * *

She was smiling. It was a real smile and she felt happy for once. There was a certain bounce in her step as she walked the hallways though she rolled her eyes as she heard shouting from the apartment. It was probably Richard again: he got annoyed at anything.

When she heard her name, she stopped and slowly made her way to the door. Tentatively, she pressed her ear to the wood and listened intently to the conversation.

"I can't believe you Richard! What is your fucking problem?" that was Noah, _definitely_ Noah, "she hasn't done anything wrong so where the hell had this come from?"

"She still hasn't got a job Puck," he fought back, "and she's using more money than she'd bringing in. We have to pay for her food, the electricity she uses. Everything!"

"No, _I_ have to pay."

"Then why are you doing it? She's taking advantage of you man."

"Don't ever say that again," she could practically hear Noah's scowl in his voice, "just because you've never cared for anybody doesn't meant that you can say that. You don't understand."

"Wake up from this delusion. You think that you're the only one who can help her!"

"I am," this was said quietly, more so that she could barely hear it.

"Send her to a homeless centre. Anywhere but here."

"No! And Sam would agree with me."

"Oh," Richard growled, "Sam's too nice to tell anyone to leave, never mind a pretty single girl."

She couldn't believe that Richard was being like this again and, once more, that he still wanted her to leave. As Noah had asked her, she'd tried to cut down on the drinking and she'd done a lot more around the apartment for them, but she guessed that it would never be enough. Feeling more anger than anything, she stopped herself from going in there and arguing with him until he was proved wrong and instead calmly walked into the room, as though pretending that she hadn't heard anything.

Both men looked angry, sending each other daggers from across the room. Noah had his arms crossed, face red from the shouting. "I'm back," she said happily.

Noah's face seemed to lighten up, "Where've you been?" She could see Richard retreating to him room sulkily.

"Just out," she said, catching his gaze, "no, nothing to do with Finn. Someone invited me out for lunch and then shopping." She gestured toward the small bag in her hand. Kurt had been kind enough to buy her a new shirt although she'd denied him the chance to get anything else.

Noah smiled at her, "that's great." She reached her arms around his neck, tightly holding him. This may be the last time she hugged him, especially now that she knew what Richard felt. Noah had been there for her when nobody else had, but it was time that she stopped making things hard on him. There was no need for that. She gave his body a tight squeeze.

"You've been so good to me Noah," she said, "you've been _too_ good."

"Nah, you deserve it babe," he said, rubbing her back.

"I'm gonna go shower," she announced, pulling away from him.

He nodded, "I'll be in my room. I'm pretty tired actually."

"Okay," she forced a cheerful voice, gazing at his face for long enough to remember how happy he looked at her sudden change in mood. She hoped that he would stay that happy.

* * *

Finn slept in for a long time that morning, finding that it felt good to do this on days off. He'd done it whenever Quinn was away and, now that they no longer lived together, he could do it all the time. The dog jumped on his bed excitedly, jolting him awake just as the doorbell went. "Ugh," he groaned, rubbing his eyes and he slowly stumbled toward the door.

He yawned when he opened it to find Kurt. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked tiredly, stepping back to let him in.

"I'm just here to see how you're doing. It's been two weeks now and you haven't done anything except sleep, work and eat."

He scratched his head, scolding Jerry when he ran between his legs, almost tripping him up. "I'm fine Kurt," he said, "look at me, never better."

His brother's eyes widened, "trust me, you've had hundreds of better times that this. You're wearing a muppet's shirt."

"I haven't been doing much laundry, okay? This is one of the only things left," he admitted.

Kurt glanced around at the dishevelled apartment. "Looks like you haven't been doing much of anything," he commented.

"Why're you really here?" he frowned, waiting for an answer.

"Fine," he rolled his eyes, "have you called Rachel lately?"

"…no."

This seemed to be both shocking and disappointing. "What? You still haven't even tried to get in touch with her? I thought that Quinn broke up with you because you were in love with her?"

"I never said that! I said that I don't know."

He shook his head, "anyway, despite you being completely hopeless, I wanted to know because…she hasn't been answering my calls." His frown deepened, "and I was hoping that, if you two had reconnected, you'd know why."

Finn shrugged, "sorry man, I can't help you."

"Wait," Kurt suddenly snapped up, "don't you have Noah's number?"

"Well, Quinn did," he said, feeling a little sad as he thought about his ex, "but she wrote it down for me if I wanted to call them."

When Kurt made a face at him, he hurried to get it, pressing the numbers into his phone. His heart was pounding as he faced the prospect of having to talk to her again. What if he said something stupid? What if she didn't even want to talk? Oh no, this was a bad idea. He should have just hung up.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end was drained and tired, but he could tell that it belong to Noah.

"Noah?" It's Finn," he said quickly, feeling that if he didn't he'd say the wrong thing. It was better to get it all out at once, "look, is Rachel there? I need to talk to her."

There was silence and he thought that maybe he was going to get her yet the voice remained the same. "Rachel's been missing for two weeks."

He dropped the phone.

* * *

**Another cliff hanger! I'm sorry. I just couldn't helpy myself. Please review :)**


	8. Every day

**This is definitely the longest chapter I've written, but still so much fun and quite emotional for me, considering that it's the last one of the story. This is the end of my first full length story and I hope to receive lots of your feedback.**

**Oh, and I do have ideas for other stories, though will begin working on them after my exams (I have ten this week and next. Oh joy!) I actually should be revising now, but this is clearly more important. I mean, it's finchel. :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Missing_

_Rachel Berry_

_Twenty years old_

_Last seen on the 5__th__ March _

Finn glanced at the poster in his hand, staring for longer than he should had at the picture of her, the one where her smile was large than ever before and made him want to know where this girl went? Noah, well Puck as he'd told him to say, had found the picture of her, apparently in a scrapbook that she'd made for his birthday the year earlier. He'd made hundreds of these posters and they had been placed nearly everywhere in New York, her face plastered to every available surface. It pained Finn to see the image of the girl that he felt responsible for making her leave.

After he'd phoned Puck that night, only to receive the worst news he'd heard in years, he'd hurried over to the man's apartment, whether he was wanted or not.

The most vivid part of that meeting was being punched in the face, _hard_. But he supposed that he kind of deserved it. And, not quickly after that, Puck was apologising to him, his anger having seeped out of his system only to be replaced with more dreaded feelings. Finn could sympathise. Apparently Puck had gone to work and, when he'd got back, she was nowhere to be found. All that remained of her existence was a note, a note that simply said _don't come looking for me._ He wondered what she was feeling when she'd wrote it, whether or not she had to do it more than once from crying: she seemed like the type of person to cry at something like that.

"We should move onto the next street," Puck, standing beside him, said decisively, his own eyes slowly grazing over their work.

He nodded. "Sure," he mumbled, holding onto the stack of posters to keep the wind from stealing them of his grip. He followed the tired looking Puck across the road and heard him sigh, "You okay man?"

The relationship between them was certainly better than the first time they'd met. Finn admitted it, he had been jealous of Puck. He _was_ dating Rachel. Or, at least, that's what he'd thought. Within two minutes of their meeting, Puck had made it blatantly obvious that the two were not an item, nor would they ever be ("That's just weird dude," he'd cocked his brow.) and he'd released a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding. But he'd also clearly showed his distaste of him, hence the punch, involving lots of shouting and accusations.

Eventually, the two had come to an agreement.

Puck would forget all the crap that he'd done to Rachel if he helped him to find her. It was simple. Still, there wasn't a day that went by when he wasn't being blamed for her leaving. He'd often thought about telling the man that it was her _choice_ to leave, but he felt that it might not sit well with him.

This is how he'd ended up here a week later, standing next to the only person who cared about Rachel as much as he did. It felt so alien to say it at first, to admit all of these feelings could possibly be about one person but, the more he said it, the better he felt and the more _right_ it was too. Yet, she was gone.

Finn guessed that the saying "you never know what you have until it's gone" really applied to this situation and he was sort of pissed, well _really_ pissed, that he'd allowed it to even get to this stage. He was determined. He was going to find her. The posters were one thing; he'd asked Kurt and Blaine to put some up where they live and, in a moment of pure desperation, asked Quinn. She was coping better than he had been and almost seemed willing to help. He didn't know whether it was genuine or just a front, but he hoped that it was the prior.

He handed out the posters at work, forcing people to keep them if he they hadn't met her, just in case. Although, he wasn't too happy about having to give one to Jacob: he didn't trust the man ever since he'd found him and Rachel together that time, her almost in tears. Still, anything to get her back. At this point, he was sure that he'd give his soul for her and wondered when he'd become so attached to this woman.

He missed her.

He missed her when he was with Quinn but now, the longing for her felt like it was burning his insides every time she was in his mind, which was essentially _all_ the time.

"I'm fine," Puck answered him, clearly not. He'd learned not to press him for any further explanation, considering that it was the reason for his black eye (although it was almost gone by now).

The words seemed to slip from his mouth, "do you think that we're getting any closer to finding her?" It was stupid because the answer would either give them false hope or completely destroy whatever hope they had left.

* * *

When he got home, he flopped onto the couch, completely ignoring Sam and Richard who were in fierce battle on the Xbox. He tried to soothe his headache by rubbing his head softly but to no avail, which only put him in a worse mood. Never before has he felt physically sick with worry; he was acting like his own fucking mother sometimes.

Why did she leave?

Actually, he kind of understood why, though was annoyed that she hadn't even cared to explain to him before she did it. She just left. Yes, he would have eventually talked her out of it, or at least tried his best, but that sentiment would have been nice.

"Still no luck?" Sam asked him, the only one of his roommates who showed sincere concern for Rachel.

He shook his head sadly.

"Tough break man."

"At least we have our apartment back without all of that girly shit in it. She put _scented candles _in the fucking bathroom."

He was so angry that he didn't realise that he'd thrown something at Richard, never mind that he'd thrown his own shoe.

"What the fuck?"

His voice was a low growl, "this is your entire fault. If it wasn't for you complaining every time you opened your God damn mouth, Berry would still be here, where I know that she's safe and not doing anything stupid.

* * *

She gave a frustrated sigh as yet another car sped past her. To be honest, Rachel wasn't sure how she'd ended up walking along this busy freeway- only that she was tired, hungry and wet from the sudden downpour of rain which fit her feelings perfectly.

Already, she missed Noah. He was her friend, her best friend and it hurt to leave him behind, but she was sick of dragging him down with her. He deserved so much better.

So, here she was, freeing him and-hopefully-herself from this never ending curse of bad luck. This didn't seem like the case as each car didn't seem to realise that she was there.

It had been hours. She was used to walking a lot but an entire day on her feet was taking the toll on her already weak body. Not to mention that it was beginning to get a lot colder and she was lacking a thick weather proof coat. Maybe it would be better if the cold or the hunger got her in the end. Who would miss her other than Noah? Finn was preoccupied with his perfect fiancé and perfect wedding and perfect life. She could be with her fathers: she missed them so much. In times like this, she would have imagined what advice they'd give her, usually something about sticking her chin up and showing the world that it won't get to her, but lately it just seemed so much harder to believe it, let alone follow it.

She was officially homeless.

She didn't even know where she was going.

Anywhere but this place and, more importantly, anywhere but _him_.

Her arms were loosely hung around her skinny body as she wouldn't why she couldn't be a child anymore, a child who could just be free and the only worry they had was getting home before their parents got angry. But she couldn't be that innocent girl and she never would be again. Her eyes had been witness to too many terrible things and they haunted her, whether she was awake or asleep.

She yearned for some alcohol to numb her body and mind, to lull her into a comfort that hardly anything else provided.

All food that she could manage to get was gone, except half a sandwich that she'd saved and she didn't plan on eating it until she was desperate. There was hardly anything to drink. She's started with three bottles of water and had a quarter of one left. It didn't satisfy her thirst and her mouth was dry as she thought of what she really wanted but couldn't have.

As well as being unaware as to where she was, the day and time was also completely alien to her. She thought that it'd been at least two weeks since she'd left the apartment and, after sleeping rough wherever she could, a few day ago she'd set off walking to…wherever. She was scared, tired, hopeful and miserable but of everything, her heart ached the most. Finn didn't even know how much he'd heart her and he never would.

Though it was harsh, she almost wished that he knew of her downfall and blamed himself, just so that he'd feel that guilt that he must have been ignoring. She glanced at the rough terrain beneath her feet, wishing that she had some thicker shoes because these were pathetic at protecting her feet.

The tears silently fell.

No one could see them.

Nobody cared.

She was beginning to realise that _she_ didn't even care all that much anymore. What was the point? Every time something felt like it was going right, it was always snatched right away from her, leaving her like this shell of a person and she hated it. Sometimes, she just wished that she was invisible, able to hide from pain easily rather than running.

Her clothes were dirty and old; she probably looked horrible and she wanted to have a hot shower so badly, not this burst of freezing water over her. As she stared straight ahead, she saw the cars speed up and knew that she wouldn't be getting a ride any time soon.

Loud thunder caused her jump and she stared up at the dark sky, when the flash of lightening followed. "Great," she mumbled to herself, really wishing that her coat had a hood. Still, she was already drenched and a hood couldn't exactly protect her from lightening. Hovering nearer the edge of the road as to not get lost (her vision was blurred by the rain) she continued her battle for freedom.

A black car slowed near her and, at first, she thought that it had broken down, since it had stopped so abruptly but then the window slid down to a man smiling at her, or more smirking. He had dark, curly hair, an arrogant stare and was clad in an expensive leather jacket. "You need a ride?" he asked. Normally, strangers offering to give her a lift somewhere were the people that she generally avoided but it was raining and she was tired of walking. So, she climbed into the passenger seat, grateful when he had pulled a blanket from the back seat and offered it her to dry herself off.

"Where are you going?" he asked casually, like you would a friend.

She pulled off her wet coat and scrunched it up into a ball, letting the warmth of the heater radiate onto her skin. "Anywhere," she told the man.

Not a minute after he'd started driving, he said, "I'm Jesse."

"Rachel," she replied quickly, trying to get all of the water from her hair.

"Can I ask how a lovely lady like yourself ends up wandering this freeway?" he cocked his brow, mouth twisting into a smirk once more.

"It's a long story."

"It's a long drive."

She talked animatedly and cried sadly, but she never made it boring he thought. He listened to her story and watched as the broken girl before him got a little more colour in her cheeks and became a little less tired. And she wasn't lying when she said it was long. It went on over dinner, they stopped at a small diner where she practically wolfed down the food, and for more of the journey before she fell asleep.

This family visit had suddenly become a lot more interesting for Jesse St James.

He'd been so dissolved in this girl's story that he hadn't noticed that dark blue car following his every turn.

* * *

"Well, maybe we could pay for a missing ad on milk cartons or something," Finn suggested.

"Yeah, because that's not a complete utter waste of time and money," Puck sneered, "I'm sure we'll find her that way. Please Finn; enlighten us with more of your brilliant ideas."

The man looked down sadly, "I just thought-"

"Well stop thinking," he snapped, "every time you think, it always ends up making everything worse. What were you _thinking_ when you kissed her? And what went through your mind when you basically cheated on your fiancé with her?"

"Will you just give me a fucking break?

Puck pretended to consider it. "How about…no"

"I feel like shit, okay? I regret this every day so will you…just…shut…the…hell…up!" his anger was clear on his flustered face and his eyes narrowed at the other man, "I know that you hate me Puck, but you're not innocent in this either. You didn't stop her from doing any of this and you pretended to be her boyfriend. It was your roommate that made her leave and your slept with Quinn whilst we were still together, I only kissed Rachel!" The words were almost screamed yet he felt strangely calm afterwards, like he'd just emptied his soul.

He was stood up, not actually remembering when he did so, staring down at Puck. He just nodded, "no wonder she fucking left. Look at us, we're all a mess." He looked away solemnly before adding, "and I'm sorry, for sleeping with Quinn. I-"

It was cut across by Finn, "don't be. None of us are innocent here."

More silence.

"What do we do now?" he had his head carefully placed in his hands, looking defeated.

Finn's hand found its place on his shoulder, "all we can do. We keep looking for her."

It appeared that Puck had reached his breaking point. His hands were shaking, much to Finn's shock, and he said, "What if it's too late?"

"What do you mean?" He knew fully well what he meant.

He gave a loud defeated sigh. "She drinks a lot. You probably already know that," he scoffed and Finn remembered all the time's he'd seen her under the influence of alcohol, nodding, "and she doesn't know when to stop. She's never been one for boundaries. It's just…what if she goes too far? She could run into the wrong people or do something stupid. I'd never forgive myself."

"I'm sure tha-"

The rant continued, "I'm always there for her, _always _and I know that I sound like a fucking sissy right now but you've gotta understand where I'm coming from. I've known her for thirteen years and I've watched her go through as much crap as anybody can take." He hesitated, not sure why he was justifying his actions to Finn of all people, "and I just feel responsible for looking after her. It doesn't make me any less of a man." Finn smiled: only Puck would have to assure himself of his manliness at a time like this. "We just had each other's backs. Do you know what I mean?"

For once, he felt something positive toward Puck. He was grateful that, unlike himself, someone had been helping Rachel through the crap that had been thrown at her, him being one of them. He dared say that, if Puck hadn't been there, she would have cracked a long time ago.

He nodded, "yeah. I understand."

He feels like he needs to say it out loud for it to feel more real. "We'll find her." _I _will_ find her _he thought.

And then Puck is suddenly being his badass self again because his jaw locks and, with determined eyes, he nods.

* * *

The house was perfect. It looked like one of the ones she'd picked from her daddy's catalogue when she was younger; proudly claiming that she'll have ten houses that all look as beautiful as that.

Jesse was playing the generous host, having already spent half an hour convincing her to stay the night at his home because his parents wouldn't be back until the following morning. She didn't want to. She would be intruding on another person's life and the cycle that she'd become too familiar with would start again. But he'd insisted. He was not taking no for an answer.

So she'd agreed. Just for _one_ night. What harm could that be?

"Your home is lovely," she commented, feeling out of place in her grimy clothes.

He was leaning against the crisp white doorframe, that same smirk not having left his lips for a while now. With hawk like eyes, he looked her up and down, "maybe you should get out of those damp clothes. Don't want you catching a cold, do we?" It felt like there was something else behind the words.

She smiled nervously.

* * *

The hot water against her skin was beyond wonderful and she let out a long sigh as she felt the grime that had collected on her body over the past few days drain away. Her muscles relaxed, eyes closing slowly. It allowed her to forget…just for a few seconds.

Her entire body succumbed to the warmth and she was covered in goose bumps, this feeling clearly strange to her body: she'd been so cold (not only physically) and she knew that it would take some miracle to melt it away.

Once more, her thoughts surrounded the one man that she couldn't seem to forget about. He seemed to be the only thing in her mind, everything else melted away by the hot water yet Finn stood firm and prominent. She could see him clearly, his eyes the most piercing thing about his appearance as they looked ahead sadly. His evident feelings of unhappiness passed onto her and she felt down heartened yet again, all from imagining him. Why did she let herself do this? It felt as though he'd already taken so much from her and she wanted to be free. That's why she'd left.

She didn't want to have come this way only to be haunted by her memories of Finn.

This was a chance, maybe the _only_ chance she had of a new beginning. Jesse was the only person in this town who knew of her past, of the relationships and heartache that she'd suffered.

She was going to turn her life around, start anew.

It was going to be difficult, but she had never been one for taking the easy way out of something.

Rachel Berry was determined, more than she ever had been.

Of course, she would miss her old life- she hoped that one day she could see Noah and apologise for everything-but she couldn't let this opportunity slip out of her hands. She was gripping onto it will all her might.

Stepping cautiously into the cold air, she wrapped a towel around her wet body and then her hair, walking slowly back into the bedroom, which was just as beautiful as the rest of his house. She was surprised to find her bag gone, instead a set of clothing lay out on the bed for her, a note alongside them explaining that he'd asked the cleaner to "sort out" her old clothing. His _cleaner_. How rich was this guy?

Still, that didn't bother her in the slightest and she placed on the dress that he'd provided, admiring the way that it hugged her body almost perfectly, despite the weight that she'd lost.

Nervously, she made her way down the grand staircase, her fingers trembling along the bannister as she did so. It was hard to pinpoint why exactly. It was true that she felt out of place in this house, among the upper class furniture and decoration, and she really wanted to make a good impression on Jesse because, well, he'd been kind enough to let her stay for the night. He could have just left her on the side of the road but no, he'd been a real gentleman and taken care of her when she needed it the most.

As she stepped into the new room, he smiled up at her. When his eyes scanned her body again, he seemed very pleased, "well, who knew such a gorgeous woman was hiding behind those dirty clothes?"

Ordinarily, a witty comment would snap from her mouth, but she merely smiled at his words and went to join him. "Thank you," she said politely to him, her eyes wandering the room for a better look. It was more impressive than she'd originally thought, the grand high ceilings one of the first things that she noticed. He smirked, as if knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"It's over two hundred years old, this house. My family used it for entertaining whereas _I_," he slowly reached into a cabinet, the inside racked with bottles and bottles of wine, "like to use it as a getaway."

He poured himself a glass, offering the bottle to her. She watched it slowly, feeling a huge hatred for the substance, the thing that she thought she loved. It was the problem. It had always been the problem. But she wasn't going to stand for it anymore; Rachel Berry was determined to sort herself out, to save her life from this spiralling fall.

Though it absolutely killed her, she shook her head. She watched as he pressed his own glass to his lips, the liquid completely hypnotising her as it moved when he tipped the glass up. One day, she'd better be happy that she'd made this decision because right now she felt so desperate for the wine that she'd probably kill for it. He smiled slyly at her, pouring himself some more: maybe he was trying to impress her with the amount he could handle but Rachel was thinking. She couldn't escape her thoughts.

It was almost exciting, thinking about where she could go from here. She had possibilities, she had chances…she could have a future. A future where she wasn't worried about what other people thought about her, one where she could focus on herself and her own ambitions, like she had when her fathers were alive, showering her in supports and encouragement. Thinking on them, she felt the lump that had risen in her throat. Jesse had told her where they were, Lima Ohio, and she knew that she was close to her old home, the one that was burnt to a pile of ashes and lost memories.

And that meant that her fathers' graves were nearby too – she hadn't visited them in years, the last flowers she placed there being a large bunch of tulips on the day that she left for Julliard.

They would understand her distance. They always understood her.

Jesse was talking to her rapidly and she wanted to listen to him, _really_, but her mind was just not at all realising this and allowed itself to lose attention rather quickly. He led her to the sofa ("a gift from the Mayor," he'd announced proudly) and relaxed against his back, the wine still placed casually in his hand. Between shooting glances toward that and thinking of how she would achieve Rachel Berry 2.0, there wasn't much time for her to listen to his theory on show choir choreography.

* * *

He was drunk, most definitely.

It was _different_, she supposed, seeing the effect that it had on other people. Usually, if somebody was drunk, she would be ten times worse than they were and unable to comprehend to simple English, never mind absorb the state of said person. But Jesse, his words slurred a bit more with each mouthful of wine and his smug face sank off his face to a dopey grin.

Not after very long, when she realised he certainly could _not_ hold his drink, he passed out against the arm of the chair, his face squashed comically.

Though a little tired, she took it as an opportunity to scan the house for something she desperately needed. A computer. How else would she kick start the plan? She successfully found one, tucked away in a small office which appeared to be dedicated to Jesse, judging by the pictures that dominated the walls, his smiling face in turn owning the image. Slowly, she turned it on, hoping that he wouldn't mind if she used it: she just really needed to, desperately needed to.

She let out a small sigh of relief when there was no password required (there was no way that she could hack into his computer) and she quickly pulled up the search bar, typing in the words carefully.

* * *

Finn barely had the energy to lift the key up to the lock. His eyelids felt heavy as he pushed open the door and was bombarded by his giddy dog. Everything he did was a haze. He slept, worked, ate and spent any other time that he had just searching for her…anywhere that he could. Sometimes these searches would take him hours away from his home and, with each one, his hope was slowly slipping away.

Collapsing onto the sofa, he let his tiredness take over, falling into a restless sleep.

He dreamt that he found her, only, he didn't find her alive.

It was the worst nightmare he'd ever had.

* * *

"Jesse, I can't," she smiled, "you've already done so much for me. I just need to get back up on my own two feet." She nodded to confirm this, though it didn't seem to be getting through to him

He slinked his arm around her, "look. My mum needs help in her boutique. You need a job. It's all worked out perfectly."

Her eyes met the floor," the last time somebody just gave me a job, it ended up with me moving out of the state."

His own eyes danced with amusement. "Rachel," he smiled charmingly, "I think it's time you let go out of the past…" She felt like he wanted to say something else but nothing came. In a manner very unlike him, from what she'd learned over the past few days anyway, he didn't say what came to his mind, yet held his tongue and remained staring at her.

Tucking some loose hair behind her ear, she realised that she was a bit shaky. "It's hard," she admitted, not looking him in the eye. With both of them in complete silence, she bit her lip hard and said, "let me think about your offer, okay?"

* * *

"So, made up your mind yet?" he tried to sound casual.

"Yes."

He paused, "yes to _that_ question or to the other."

"Both," she laughed, "I'll have the job, that is, if you want me to."

As he spun her around happily, she couldn't help but be reminded of the last time this same situation had occurred and she shook her head, trying to forget. She didn't think that she could ever try hard enough. Even when he wasn't there, he was still well…_there_. It didn't make much sense in her mind, which wasn't surprising considering how confused she'd been lately, but she couldn't grasp why he wouldn't leave. She'd left for a reason. How was it that that reason had followed her?

* * *

The door was knocking at this ungodly hour and Finn groaned as he had to eventually get up when the person refused to leave. Jerry barked excitedly beside him, clearly having being interrupted too, and he jumped at the door. "Get out of the way," he mumbled to the dog, watching in half amusement as his ears dropped down before he treated down to hallway. Rolling his eyes, Finn pulled open the door. "Puck? What the hell are you doing here?"

He looked the man up and down. He shrugged off the question, stepping into the apartment uninvited. "Hey Finnessa," he announced. Well, that was a new nickname. Jerry had ran up to the stranger, curiosity kicking in. "Cool dog," he commented, scratching the top of his head.

"Look, I'm not really in the mood for handing out posters or brainstorming more ideas," he said honestly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I just need a break man."

Puck rolled his eyes, "well, duh. Why else d'you think I'm here? Tonight we're gonna go and enjoy ourselves."

He wasn't listening with much interest, instead leaning casually against the doorframe. Slowly, he said, "what do you mean?"

"Fuck dude," Puck was quick to say, "I need to blow off some steam and so do you, so grab your coat. We're going to a strip joint."

"A strip joint? Puck, I _really_ don-"

"Suck it up man," he smirked, "just because you have some weird shit going on with Berry doesn't mean that you can't enjoy yourself, does it?"

Finn looked to his feet. "It wouldn't feel right."

"That's what makes it so good," the man agreed, his eagerness showing through. "Now hurry up. Tomorrow night we're carrying on with the posters so this is the only chance you'll get to hang out with el Puckerone. Take it or leave it."

He watched as Puck gave yet another shrug, though his expression gave him away, showing that he really didn't want to be there alone. The relationship was strengthening. Joined in one common goal, they did what they had to, but Puck was beginning to warm to him, or maybe just be less bitter…which was totally good, right? Or so Finn thought. They could even have a conversation now, a real one about guy stuff and not all centering Rachel. Sure, they did talk about her, but it wasn't all the time.

Sometimes, it was nice to forget everything…if only for a little while. Then the pain and guilt could disappear along with the memories and he didn't dislike himself so much. He'd see her face, always looking so sad, her eyes peering deep down into his soul and then she would give him a look of utter hatred. He deserved it. But he most certainly did not want it.

He felt someone fling a jacket at him, "come on Finn. Get your fucking act together."

"I don't want to go," he reiterated.

Puck froze, "you're not…gay or anything are you?"

He gave him a look. Was he serious?

"Oh yeah, forgot that you were still hopelessly in love for a minute there," he replied quickly, easily forgetting his earlier question, "so let's go then. Drinks are on me."

With a loud groan, Finn followed after the insistent man, knowing that seeing other girls would only remind him of the one girl that he truly missed. Life was a bitch.

* * *

She shifted awkwardly in her seat. It was strange, she thought, that once she had no trouble speaking, even singing, in front of hundreds of people yet now, she wanted to be invisible. All their eyes were on her and, though her voice was as shaky as her hands, she started.

"I'm Rachel," she smiled only slightly, managing to look around the room. Her voice echoed off the walls as she continued, "and I'm here because I want to be in control of my life again." There were a few nods of encouragement, others in understand. Glancing down at her hands for a second, she regained her confidence with a deep breathe. They'd all shared their stories with her- it was only fair to return the favour. "I suppose that it all started the day my parents died…"

* * *

"Excuse me," he ran up to another person, this time a woman trying to nurse her baby, "have you seen this girl?"

She barely looked at the picture he was holding up before shaking her head. His whole posture dropped, before he muttered a sorrowful "thanks for your time". He did it again

And again

And again

And again

Nobody had seen her.

Nobody cared that he'd lost her.

This city was huge. She could have been absolutely anywhere within it and he may never see her again. No. That thought was instantly pushed to the back of his mind. He still had hope and, whilst there was even the little ounce of it left, his fight would continue.

He found somebody else. "Excuse me," he began the routine. Across the street, he could see Kurt and Blaine doing exactly the same thing, most likely gaining similar results too. They'd been happy to help. Actually, they'd offered and Finn would more than grateful. Maybe they just felt pity for him but it was two more people and that was better than before.

Puck had other things to do apparently, which sort of irked Finn as he'd been in so much trouble for arriving ten minutes late once. Now, he hadn't even shown up and it was all supposed to be fine? He didn't think so. He had half a mind to lay his thoughts into Puck but it would cause too much tension and there was already enough stress. They were worried, though Puck swore never to admit it, and that led to the stress. Sometimes he wasn't sure whether he could handle it (he was unsure of a lot of things lately) yet he knew that, when he found her, it would all be worth it.

It would take a while, he understood, before she could forgive him. Still, it'd been weeks since they'd even seen each other. She had to have calmed down by now. Although, if she was still drinking… Finn shuddered and focused himself on the task at hand. He checked his phone to see if he hand any texts from Puck regarding his whereabouts and was faced with an empty inbox.

What was Puck doing?

There was no time to dwell on it as he spotted more people to question.

* * *

She felt on edge. She wasn't even sure why, only that the hair on the back of her neck stood up, as if themselves alert. Nonetheless, she continued the short walk back to the house. That night she'd been in charge of locking up the store and so, it was already late (and pretty dark).

There, right there. She'd heard footsteps. Glancing around her, she saw nothing but the empty street.

With a frown firmly set on her face, she hurried down the road, glad when said footsteps seemed to disappear and she found the safety of the house. Still, it had her slightly more paranoid than normal and she couldn't shake the feeling off that somebody was watching her.

* * *

"So, tell me again why you're going?" he frowned, feeling a bit annoyed that she'd only just told him when she was leaving…tomorrow.

She rolled her eyes, "I'm going to visit my family. Or am I not allowed to do that without your permission?" Her eyebrow raised, she gave him a glare that totally scared him but he pretended not to be phased, "_and_ I'm staying for a week. Yes, a _whole_ week."

He ignored her sarcasm and idly swirled the water in his glass. "Why the fuck do you wanna stay in Lima for a whole week?"

Quinn shook her head at the so called "man" before her. "This is the first time that I've seen my parents since Finn and I broke up. They need closure and so do I."

"The hell do they need closure for? They weren't dating him."

Slowly, she took a seat next to him, "They really liked him. He had status. He was _someone_."

He sulked further, "and I'm nobody then?"

"They haven't even met you!" she frowned, "why are you being so difficult Puck? I'm sure that you can survive without me or would you not be able to find somebody to buy your fucking diapers for you?"

When she swore harshly at him, he winced. Sure, it was okay when he did so because…well, he was a badass but Quinn wasn't like that.

"No," he clarified, "I just don't want to have to deal with Finn being a pansy all day whilst he pines over Rachel." He saw the flash of sadness in her eyes, remembering that, under no circumstances, must he mention a certain brunette to her. "Errr…sorry?"

"It's fine." It didn't _sound_ fine. She took a deep breathe, composing herself, "how is Finn? I haven't really spoken to him since…"

"How am I supposed to know? I don't talk to him about feelings and shit," he folded his arms, "at the end of the day, he's only helping me with one thing."

"I thought that you said he was, and I quote, "cool"?"

He groaned at her, "He was… before he became so fucking needy."

"Uh huh," she nodded, "and that's why you went to the strip joint with him the other night then?"

_Oh shit!_ She was glaring at him, her lips pursed tightly together as her eyes bore into his own. One, she was probably really pissed: she didn't like the thought of him watching almost naked girls dancing around for his own pleasure and two, it sort of reinforced his friendship with Hudson. But they weren't friends. He should really hate him, especially when he'd been a douche to Rachel. Instead, he felt pity for the guy. It kind of annoyed Puck.

He needed to change the subject fast. "So," he wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, "you'll be gone for a week? Won't you miss me?"

"You think that you can just give me that look and I'll melt into a puddle right in front of you?" she placed her hand on her hip, "Noah Puckerman. How disappointing! I am not just some slut."

His smirk followed her words, "I know you're not, but we should make up for the time we'll miss…beginning as soon as possible."

She just shook her head at him, "you're unbelievable…"

* * *

"Oh Rachel," he exclaimed, "Just stay with us a little longer. You don't need to get an apartment of your own."

She stuck her nose up, disregarding his suggestion. "I don't want to be a burden anymore."

Jesse frowned. "You're not. My parents love you…and I've taken quite a liking to you too." The way that he'd spoken, the words naturally flowing off with a flirty undertone, made her slightly uncomfortable. She glanced down, hearing the heel of his boots as he took a step toward her. "You're beautiful," he whispered suddenly, catching her eyes in a deep stare. His fingers traced a trail down her cheek. They were delicate and soft, but they weren't _his_. He'd had large, clumsy hands yet she didn't care that they weren't perfect and she wished that he'd done this to her. But he had Quinn…and all she had was bad memories. Maybe one day she could forget about him.

Her attention was once more stolen by the man in front of her as he began to lean forward, his lips – probably just as soft and delicate as his hands – poised to kiss her. He was only a few inches away when she found her voice.

"I-I can't Jesse," she turned her face away, blinking away the years. Why did she feel like she was betraying Finn? They'd had nothing. They hadn't dated. And he'd made it clear that he was with Quinn. Yet, she felt wrong for doing this. Jesse had been nothing but kind to her, sometimes his opinion being a bit brutal, though she understood and she even _liked_ him for it. Here he was, about to kiss her, and she was thinking of another man.

He should have been angry…or upset. She wanted him to be. Instead, he sighed and watched her with sad eyes, "it's Finn, isn't it?"

Her eyes grew wide with shock. "What do you mean?" she tried to smile, to show him that she thought it amusing to think that Finn was the cause. She didn't think it amusing, even in the slightest.

He could see right through her.

"Your feelings for him are kind of obvious," he commented, his mouth twitching into a sympathetic smile.

She shook her head. He _had_ to be mistaken. "What feelings? Whatever was going on with Finn and I…it's over now."

With a sad look in his eyes, he patted her arm softly. "Rachel, it's okay to admit your feelings. That's why you've been going to them meetings, right? To talk about this stuff."

"The meetings are about something else," she mumbled, not sure whether he heard or not.

If he had heard her, he chose not to respond and spoke returned to Finn. "Are you sure that these feelings aren't deep? I mean, girls are usually really into me by the first few days and you're sort of hesitant. I get it, I'm can be quite overwhelming at first," he was smiling as he spoke of himself, "but my talents really speak for themselves. I assumed that you'd be into me by now."

She scrunched up her nose at him. He just _assumed_ that she'd like him just like all the other girls. Why did men ever have to _assume_ anything? They were all the same she thought. They all _assumed_ that girls would instantly fall for them because they were just _such_ an amazing and perfect person. But she wasn't going to be one of those girls. She didn't want to feed his ego any further, "I don't like you in that way Jesse. I'm sure that, under different circumstances, I would feel something, but I don't. I don't feel one damn thing…"

Folding her arms across her chest defensively, held onto her tears and turned away from him. He seemed to think for a minute, his dark eyes darting toward her decisively, "what about love?"

"What about it?" she snapped.

"…don't you feel it?"

She stared down. "I told you…I don't have feelings for you so lo-"

"Not for me! For him."

"Who?"

"You know who," he replied, sighing when she stared at him with a blank face, "Finn."

The mention of his name a second time caused her to close her eyes, almost trying to forget. She took a deep breathe. "Let me make this clear. My feelings for Finn were one-sided and my head was all over the place. I was just lonely. I certainly do not…love…him." The last two words trembled in her mind.

Jesse watched her speak, "are you sure?" He smiled a little, "because you're definitely hung up on him…how often do you think about him?"

She shrugged, "once in a while." _All the time._

With the hint of a smirk, he arched his brow. "You're a terrible liar."

"I'm not lying!"

"Rachel" he smiled, "there's only ever been two reasons why a girl didn't want to be with me. She's either struggling with deep mental issues that keep us apart." His eyes stared ahead, dazed as he sifted through his memories, but then he looked to her, "or that her heart already belongs to somebody else." When she didn't say anything in return, he pulled her in for a tight hug, "maybe you should look for an apartment where you used to live. I think it's time that you sorted this out with Finn."

She couldn't seem to manage understandable words. Stepping back, he gave a content sigh, beginning to walk from the room. As he halted at the door, face turned to her, he said, "just tell me what your next step is Rachel Berry." Then he mock saluted her, leaving the room with his head bowed.

* * *

Quinn gave a content sigh as she stepped from the taxi, breathing in the familiar air of Lima. The driver passed over her bags with a grunt but she discarded it with a smile: nothing was going to get her down. He drove away in a cloud of smoke, leaving her alone to do whatever she pleased. Though this small town could never compare to the extravagance of New York, it was still _home_… not to mention it's simple, easy going way of life was going to offer her a break from all her stress. After all, the break up between her and Finn was relatively new and she wanted to recover so that she could be with Puck, and be happy with Puck.

Her heels confidently tapped against the pavement, her large bag swinging from side to side due to the bounce in her step. Adjusting her sunglasses, she hurried through the busiest street of the whole town, which in fact wasn't at all that busy. A shop caught her eye, in particular the pair of boots that were tempting her from the window. She'd been going home to see her parents, though she knew that they were unhappy about the break up. Her dad had been the worst, almost implying that it was _her_ fault. He'd even threatened to cancel her credit card…maybe he would after this visit. A sly smile crept onto her lips. If he was going to do that, which was possible, she may as well take the time to use her credit card's full potential. Gripping onto her bag tightly, she stepped into the stop and glanced around, pleased with what she saw. Her fingers felt for a price tag, grinning when she saw how expensive some of the things were; she was definitely going to buy something from here.

She peered about the shop, scanning for an assistant in order to ask for the most costly item, or maybe _items_. Nearing the front, she spotted a brunette who was folding up some, very nice she thought, shirts. Quinn took a step forward, "excuse me, could I have some help over here?"

The girl began to turn around, "of cour-"

Both were frozen as they looked at each other. She dropped the material in her hand, eyes wide.

"Rachel?" she managed to get out, wondering if it were possible that the girl had an identical twin that happened to live in a completely different state.

"Quinn." Well, she knew who she was, so it had to be Rachel. The Rachel Berry. The one who her fiancé fell in love with instead of her. The one who he kissed. The one who pulled the two apart. She was staring at Quinn, looking like a dear caught in the headlights. Quinn had always thought that she'd be angry at the girl, maybe she was a little, but she wasn't. She didn't know what she was feeling right now, other than complete shock. It was Rachel who carried on, "what are you doing here?" she reached down to pick up the top, placing it with the others.

The blonde folded her arms. "I'm staying with family for a few days. What are you doing _here_?"

Her gaze darkened slightly, "I'm working."

"Shouldn't you be in New York…being all ridiculously cute with Finn or whatever by now?"

"What do you mean?" she was either a really good actress of genuinely confused, "Finn is with _you_."

"We broke up."

She halted once more, cautiously looking over. "I-I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she noticed how Rachel looked sad; wouldn't that be good news for her?

"It wasn't," her eyes locked onto hers, "because of me, was it?" What was she supposed to do? Lie? That wouldn't be fair to anyone, Rachel, Finn or herself. Still, the girl looked so fragile, like a thin piece of glass, so much that anything would make her shatter.

"Actually," Quinn began, "there were other reasons so don't get all excited thinking that it was _just_ you."

"I didn-"

"No, I know," she paused. Her mind was suddenly racing with thoughts and feelings that she thought had long abandoned her. "Wait," she frowned, stopping Rachel who had slowly started returning to her job, "Why didn't you know about Finn and I?" With a little confusion, she saw Rachel flinch when his name was mentioned, but carried on talking nonetheless, "h-he didn't contact you."

Rachel crossed her arms, herself becoming more defensive by the second. "No, he did not."

"Not once?"

She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, shaking her head.

"He's such an idiot," she mumbled under her breathe.

"You can say that again," Rachel agreed. Apparently she hadn't been that quiet.

Quinn's head suddenly snapped up. There was no way that she had been broken off her relationship just so that this was couldn't bloom. She should have hated Rachel for all of this, but she couldn't find it in her to. Finn and Rachel clearly loved each other, anyone with eyes could see that, and she was sure as hell going to make it work between them, no matter how stubborn they bother was.

She gently reached out a hand, placing it on Rachel's shoulder, "you need to go back."

"To where?" she asked, shrugging off the hand.

"New York!" the woman exclaimed. "So that you can see Finn."

Rachel eyes her suspiciously, "and why would I do that…it's not like he cares about me."

She rolled her eyes at the obliviousness of this girl. "Of course he does! He thinks that you're missing. Do you know that he spends nearly every night looking for you? Or that he printed up fliers and put them all over the city? He and Puck-"

"Noah," Rachel's eyes began to water, "I-I left him a note."

"Yes, that said don't come looking for me." She placed a hand on her hip, "do you seriously think that he could do that? Both of them? Puck is trying to pretend that he's not hurting, but you did that to him Rachel. He gave so much for you…"

Her watery eyes changed to more determined ones, "and you wonder why I left? Noah was giving _too_ much. He knew it and I knew it, and all I was doing was giving him his life back."

"You don't get it! You were part of his life and you just tore that away from the man," she shouted, finally losing it, "you think that you're the only one with problems, the only one who could possibly feel any hurt. Why don't you just grow up and think about somebody else?"

That had her stumped. She couldn't even think of any coherent sentences, never mind say them. All that she could do was stare at the girl who'd just snapped because of her.

Quinn took a deep breathe, running a hand through her perfectly styled hair. "I'm sorry," she began, feeling a little guilty for putting the defeated look on her face yet it were words that needed to be said.

"Don't be," Rachel told her, her eyes glistening as she spoke, "you're right. You're completely right. I need to go."

She was quickly brushing past Quinn. "Wait, where are you going?"

"You said it yourself," she explained, "I need to go to Finn." It didn't take long for her to stop running, turning to the blonde, "how am I supposed to _get_ to Finn? I don't have any money." She flung her arms about for emphasis, her heart beating so fast that she thought she was going to pass out. Quinn too was shocked, though more happy for the two. The brunette had come to her senses, with a little help from her of course, and if she returned to New York not only would Finn be happy but Puck would be too.

"Leave it to me." Once again, it was down to her to sort it all out. To Rachel, who was staring up at her with wide, expectant eyes, she said, "you finish your shift here and I'll have your Prince Charming over by tonight."

Rachel couldn't help it. Her arms flung around Quinn's neck as she pulled her into a tight, albeit, awkward hug, but at least it showed her thanks.

* * *

Finn was in the middle of a meeting when his mobile rang and he cursed himself for forgetting to turn it off- Rachel had always reminded him. When he saw that it was Puck, he felt a lot of anger for the man, who he'd told repeatedly not to call him during work.

When the phone rang once more, he inwardly groaned. He was going to screw up this meeting if it happened again. Once more, it was Puck and Finn got a sense of urgency from the call. Maybe something had happened. "Please excuse me, family matter," he lied, heading into the other room. "What the hell man?" he said into the phone.

"Get your butt down to the airport now," was all that he was told.

"What?" he hissed into the phone, "I'm trying to do a pitch here.

He could practically feel Puck roll his eyes on the other end. "Quinn fucking found Berry. So, unless you don't want to see her, I suggest that you do as I say and meet me there in ten minutes."

"Why do we need to get a plane? Where the hell is she? The arctic?"

"I wouldn't be surprised with the way that _you_ treated her." And with that, the line went dead.

He stared at the phone for what felt like forever, his pulse racing. They'd found Rachel, finally, after so many weeks and his first reaction should have been wanting to get to her ASAP but he was scared. Scratch that. He we absolutely terrified. What if, after all this, she just wanted to say goodbye to him? To part ways. That would be worse than never finding her at all.

His eyes looked to the other room, where his meeting was supposed to be taking place. "Screw that," he said to himself. He was going to see Rachel Berry again and nothing was going to take it away. He grabbed his keys, never giving it a second thought as he ran from the building.

* * *

She was jittery all afternoon, unable to control her nerves. It was good that it wasn't a busy day or else she would have ended up a complete mess and need consolation. Quinn had left, going to her parent's house though promising to come back. In all honesty, she didn't know where she stood with the girl. She hoped that their past wouldn't ruin a potentially good friendship. After all, she'd said that she and Finn were, although a little uncomfortable sometimes, still friendly toward each other.

This was her last chance with Finn.

She realised that.

No more baggage.

No more lies.

Whether she liked it or not, this was all or nothing. Still, she was more scared than she'd ever been in her entire life.

* * *

"Dude, what the fuck's wrong with you? Stop shaking!" Puck, very subtly might he add, shouted to Finn.

"I'm sorry," he frowned, "I just keep thinking that I'm going to mess this up."

Puck sighed, "that's what the flowers are for. You give 'em to her first so that she'd softened up. Then you say sorry."

"And you're sure that it'll work?"

"Works every time," he said cockily.

* * *

This was it.

The time had finally come. She locked up the store with shaky fingers, trying her best to think of anything other than this all going horribly wrong. He'd been looking for _her_. For weeks Quinn had said. So why would he bail now?

She slowly made her way to the road where Quinn had informed her to meet them, even if she was a little early. It gave her chance to calm herself down so that she didn't scare him away with being too forward. The last time she saw him was when she was drunk, not exactly nice to him either, and sort of embarrassing herself. It was honestly a surprise that he put up with her so long. She knew that she wouldn't have had the patience if it was the other way around.

As she waited, she tapped her foot against the pavement, trying to catch her breath as the temperature quickly dropped to an icier one.

She was content with waiting alone, kind of hoping that she'd imagined the whole scene with Quinn and that she didn't actually have to face Finn after all these months. Closing her eyes, she leant against the wall and sighed. "I'm not ready for this," she whispered to herself, having half a mind to leave.

But she couldn't make her legs move.

* * *

He could see her.

She was standing back to back with the wall, her eyes closed. Perfect. Slowly, he made his way over to the girl he'd been following for months, no, years.

* * *

"Excuse me, you don't have the time, do you?"

She was startled when she heard the voice, at first thinking that it was them, but quickly realising that it wasn't. Without looking at the person, she pulled out her new phone (a gift from Jesse) and read the time. "Almost nine," she told him, her eyes slowly drifting up to the man's face, when she dropped her phone in an instant. "You." Then her mind seemed to snap into action and she pulled out of his reached, "don't you come anywhere near me."

Completely ignoring her warning, he teasingly stepped toward the woman, "what are you going to do about it? You're body guard is all the way in New York." He peered around, "and the street is empty."

"I'm not sixteen anymore," she shook her head slowly, clenching her teeth as she spoke. Her eyes watched as he advanced further, his moves similar to an animal on the hunt. Behind him, her phone was lying on the floor, hopefully not damaged, and she knew that she needed to get to it quickly. Lunging forward, she reached for it though her fingers missed by inches, meaning that he had the opportunity to grab her. "Get your grimy hands off me Jacob."

Insulting him was probably not the best idea.

As a result, she received a blow to the head, one that left her slightly disoriented. She dug her nails into the arm that was squashing her waist, but nothing held him back. Just as she had got stronger, so had he.

Memories flashed through her mind.

"_Please don't," she sobbed to nobody. He wasn't listening to her. His hands fumbled her body, kissing at every exposed piece of skin._

"_It's your own fault," he groaned, "wearing those skirts, strutting about in them…" His hand rose up her skirt slowly._

Her breathing was jagged and she squirmed as he began to drag her to the nearest alley. "Help!" she yelled, just hoping that somebody was nearby, "help! Anybody! Please!" This earned another hit to the back of the neck. Whilst her legs felt like jelly, she still had use of her arms and even managed to hit him in the chest, not that it helped with anything. His hands groped at her clothes, tugging at her shirt.

"I've dreamed of this for so long," he whispered in her ear, kissing her neck, "ever since last time." She shivered at his hot breath, pulling away from him with all her might. "Nu uh," he smirked, pulling her back and locking his lips with hers. Squealing, her limbs flailed wildly in order to get him off, though it only served to amuse him.

As if bored of her lips, he moved to more pressed matters. He pulled up her skirts, "god, I love your skirts." The words were mumbled onto her skin as he kissed and bit it deeply. She felt sick, utterly sick, as she couldn't get him off. Back up against the wall in the alley, she screamed once more, "help!" Her voice sounded raw from the crying.

"Nobody's here to help you princess."

She almost had a heart attack when her attacker was himself attacked, falling limp on top of her.

* * *

"Why isn't she here?" Puck asked, looking around on the spot, "she's never late, _never_."

Quinn shrugged, "she might just be a bit behind…"

The two men shared a look, one of hope, though still questioning whether she was right or not. If she wasn't, it would only make things worse.

"Did you hear that?"

They strained their ears. "Help! Anybody! Please!"

"It sounds like…"

"Rachel!" the three said together, running in the direction of the screams. Finn, who had dropped the flowers now, could hear his own pulse loud of clear in his ears, almost feeling dizzy from the adrenaline as he trailed Puck and Quinn. The two suddenly came to a halt, Puck placing his finger to his lips to show them to be quiet, the pointing down the alley and making a signal to make their way down it. He peered down to see two silhouettes, one pushed against the way whilst the other hungrily kissed them. To any passer-by, it would look like a couple making out, until the words, whispered creepily, are said, "I've dreamed of this for so long, ever since last time." And then there was a whimper that was undoubtedly Rachel's. He lunged forward to rip the man limb from limb when Puck stopped him, eyes angry.

He watched Puck grab a discarded plank of wood as silently as possible and begin to sneak up behind the man, who was now fumbling up her skirt.

"Nobody's here to help you princess."

Puck swooped down the wood as hard as possible, hitting this man right at the back of his head. He crumpled, passing out on Rachel. With a groan, Puck heaved him off, huffing loudly. There was a moment of silence as the four tried to come to terms with what happened.

"Noah?" Rachel broke it, sounding utterly broken.

He nodded, his jaw firmly set, until she flung herself at him and refused to let go. He patted her back, leading her back to the other two. She was crying, partially from relief and partially from fear. With a shaking Rachel in his arms, he glanced to Finn and Quinn, who both were at a loss of words.

"I-" Finn began, but was cut off by Puck.

"Let's go home first," he grunted, walking to the front and leaving Rachel stood on the spot. Quinn followed after Puck, giving a sympathetic smile over toward the other two.

Finn took off his jacket, draping it over Rachel's shoulders and trying to get her to move forward. She turned to look at her attackers, eyes haunted with the memories. He too looked, recognising the man as Jacob Ben Israel from his company; they could call the police when they got back. Right now, she was his only priority. "Come on," he whispered, noticing her flinch and put his arm around her comfortingly. At first, her entire body was tense, until she realised that he wasn't going to do anything and she seemingly melted from his touch. Leaning into his chest, she cried softly onto his clothes.

He hadn't expected their reunion to be like this.

* * *

The coffee warmed her up considerably, not the mention the three blankets that she had over her, along with Finn's jacket that she refused to take off. She sat cross legged on Finn's parents' sofa, eyeing the other three. The police's visit had been quick, though they watched sadly as Rachel tried to recall the events of the night, crying as she did so.

Now all they could do was wait…

She sighed, placing the mug on the side, "are any of you going to talk soon?"

Puck, who was still trying to calm down, said, "Are you alright?" He was being as sincere as humanly possible for him and she slowly nodded.

"Just shaken up," she told him, "forgetting" to mention the paranoia and fear.

He nodded, "I'm going to make sure that he rots in prison. We all saw it, so it's not like last time."

"Last time?" Quinn questioned, completely horrified.

Rachel gulped. "When I was sixteen…h-he did it…actually did it. It w-was too late b-before anyone came." She received three looks of sympathy and turned away from them, wiping her eyes to rid any tears. "I'm sort of tired," she admitted, really wanting to be left alone.

"'Course," Puck muttered, turning to Finn for instruction.

The other man scratched his head. "You can sleep in my room…it's err, the only spare one. We can take the couches." Normally, she would argue, refusing to take somebody's bed, but her tiredness was taking over and she just needed to sleep somewhere. "I'll take you up there…" He rose, copying her actions. Puck said something about getting Quinn home safely, the two of them leaving. That just left him and Rachel. She was looking up at him with that broken puppy stare and he wanted nothing more than to protect her from the world.

He motioned for her to follow after, watching sadly as she clung to the blankets when she did so, slowly reaching the top of the stairs. "Right here," he pointed to a room, opening the door for her. She gave the tiniest of smiles before stepping into it.

This grew when she said, "it smells like you." The words were whispered, barely audible, but he laughed along with her. She let herself fall onto the bed, her fingers smoothing out the bed sheet. He searched his drawer for some clothes that wouldn't be too big for her, though found it difficult. In the end, he gave her some of his things from when he was in High school, the shirt still drowning her small body. Sitting down next to her, he noticed the bruises appearing on her neck and arms, reaching out a gentle hand to touch them.

She gasped, pulling away as he did so, eyes wide with fear.

"I'd never hurt you Rach," he told her.

"I know," she whispered, peering down. When he stood up to leave the room, she spoke once more, "please stay with me Finn."

He frowned, "I'd wake you up when I left."

"What if I don't want you to leave?"

Realising what she meant, he sat beside her, their sides touching, before lying down as she did. With her delicate fingers, she pulled his arm over her waist, her back arching into his chest as she drifted off into sleep. Their hands were entwined the entire night, tying them together.

He didn't get much sleep himself, watching over her protectively for the majority of the hour, startled when she rolled over in her sleep so that their faces were opposite each other. His heart was beating wildly from the mere brush of her breathe tickling his skin, and the heat of her hand in his. With a smile, he held on tighter, never prepared to let go.

He'd found her.

And he didn't want to let this girl ever slip out of his life again.

Without thinking, he leaned forward to kiss her forehead. He could have sworn that she smiled afterwards, a smile that made his heart warm up with love.

* * *

He crept down the stairs that morning to make her some breakfast, slamming the cupboards shut with a frustrated sigh when he couldn't find much. "What're you lookin' for son?" Burt asked from behind the newspaper, taking a large gulp of his coffee.

Finn turned on the spot, opening some more of the cupboards for good measure. "Something to eat." Maybe he would have to go to the store to get something…

"Don't worry," Burt told him, "your mom's making you some stuff when she finishes the laundry." And then they returned to their usual, comfortable silence as he waited in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his own drink. He was smiling broadly, his cheeks almost aching from how happy he was. This smile was wiped from his face when there were suddenly two screams echoing around the house. Burt's newspaper hit the table and the man went to investigate, a curious Finn in tow. They arrived upstairs to find Carole and Rachel wearing matching expressions of shock, Rachel clinging Finn's shirt to her body to cover up the exposed skin.

Carole glared at her son. "You could have told me that you had company."

"Mum!" he rolled his eyes, moving to protect Rachel from their view. "Can you leave us in peace for five minutes? _Please_." Though receiving a pointed look form his mother, the two left Finn and Rachel to be on their own. He turned to look at her, smiling softly as her body slowly became more relaxed. "Sorry 'bout that," he said, "the-"

"It's fine," she told him, standing awkwardly as they stared at each other. It seemed like it was only then he realised that she wasn't wearing a shirt, only holding one to her chest.

"Oh God, I'm sorry. Do you want me to leave?" His face was reddening at an alarming pace.

With a small smile, she nodded, feeling her own cheeks flush.

* * *

"Dude, I found her phone near that alley from yesterday," Puck thrust it into his hand, "will you give it to her for me?"

"Why can't you?"

Puck pulled a face. "Quinn wants me to meet her parents."

"Oh," he looked down at the phone in his hand, grasping it tightly. "Sure, I'll make sure she gets it." Puck threw him a grateful look, turning to leave. "Wait," he called after him, "do you think that we should meet up somewhere tonight? You know, you and Quinn and…hopefully me and Rachel."

The man nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'll text you a place. Good luck with Berry. Tell her that she still has a lecture coming from me though."

He smiled, waving his new friend away.

His eyes then fell to the phone, which was a new model, all pink and shiny. It suited Rachel perfectly. Though, he wondered where she'd got the money to buy it: Quinn had told him that she had a job here but surely she was paying to live somewhere and there wouldn't be much money left after that, never mind enough to buy this phone, which was even better than his.

Nosily, he turned it on, noticing the crack that had appeared on the screen, hoping that he hadn't caused it. A small musical sound was heard as the phone came to life, telling him that Rachel had sixteen missed calls and a few texts, all from a girl called Jesse. 'Where are you Rachel?" "Please phone me." "If you don't call me back in five minutes, I'm coming to look for you." He wondered who this girl was and how Rachel knew her, but pushed the idea to the back of his mind as he walked up the stairs.

Now fully dressed in her clothes from yesterday, she gave him a shy smile and advanced nearer the man. "Finn," she said, closing the gap between them, "I never got to thank you…" Standing on her toes, she pulled him in for a tight hug, her tiny body pressed against his. He could smell her hair, sickeningly sweet in his nose, and he squeezed tighter. It felt so wonderful to have somebody so close to him, physically and emotionally.

Pulling back, he coughed lamely and passed over her phone. "Puck found it for you," he titled his head to the side slightly.

She gave a sigh of relief, her eyes darting to the screen. "Oh," she said in a little squeak (he thought it was adorable) and frowned, "I completely forgot to tell Jesse where I was."

"I'm sure she won't mind," he shrugged.

"Jesse's a _he_."

He recognised this new feeling as jealously and he certainly didn't like it. "He is?" he asked, or more choked out. She nodded, her eyes looking at him with confusion.

"Excuse me one second," she began dialling his number, heading into the hallway to talk to him. Finn was left feeling unwanted and unneeded. Was it true? Had she found somebody else? From the way that she were acting with him last night, he wouldn't have suspected it, yet here he was panicking over this new man. _Jesse_. What kind of name was that? Ugh, even thinking about it made him feel angry.

What did he have that Finn didn't? Well…maybe that was a stupid question. Finn knew that he was no "catch". He was clumsy, sometimes stupid and he never could make his mind up. The only thing that he knew he wanted right now was Rachel Berry. Oh, and for this Jesse not to exist. Yeah, that would be nice…

* * *

"Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly, "he was a bit worried."

"Yeah…"

He glanced down twiddling his thumbs together. She carried on, seemingly not noticing his sudden decline is posture and the sad look on his face. "Apparently he was looking all night."

"Oh…"

She must have said something else, but he was too far gone in his own mind to listen. Rachel was impressed that this Jesse had looked for her for one night…when he'd been doing that exact thing for at least a forty nights.

His eyes slowly drifted up to her face, to her beautiful face, as she smiled softly. Her features were so delicate that morning, so defined and so _perfect_. She was perfect. Who was he kidding? He didn't deserve her. This Jesse did. He bet that whoever he was, he would never even think about doing the things to Rachel that he shamefully admitted to.

"Finn?" her angelic voice brought him back and she had a bemused look in her eyes, biting her lower lip. Oh God, did she have to be so tempting? "Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine," it came out wrong, all wrong. Why did he sound bitter? "Why don't you just go and play happy families with Jesse?" The words were spilling out of his mouth as he lost all control over his actions. "It's not like _I_ care about you, is it? Or that I've spent nearly every hour of these past few weeks just wishing that you were there."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Excuse _me_ Finn Hudson. How dare you act like I'm the only one at fault? You know fully well as I do that we are both to blame."

"At least I haven't moved on already!" he raised his voice.

"With who? Jesse?" she shook her head, finding his behaviour unbelievable. "He was there for me Finn."

She hadn't denied it. She _hadn't_. Did that mean…? Oh please no.

"I could have been there for you… if you hadn't ran away."

"And why do you think I left Finn?" her eyes were brimming with tears but she refused to let him see them. There was no answer that he could think of without admitting that it was his fault. So, with a stony expression, he remained silent. Rachel dropped her eyes from his, "exactly."

He had to fight back. "You know that I'm sorry Rachel."

"Sometimes that isn't enough…"

Now it was her turn to look angry, her dark eyes narrowing at him. He felt worse than ever before, guiltier than he had in his whole life.

"What else to do want me to say?" He looked to her for guidance, any help that she could offer, but her expression made it clear that he had to do this by himself. For once prove to her that they could make it. There was nothing stopping them, nothing but themselves.

She folded her arms, sniffling quietly and turning away her head.

He took a step closer, his hand outstretched yet she made a valiant effort to stay as far away from him as possible. "Fine!" he snapped, "if you're going to be like this, then maybe it won't work out after all."

Still, she didn't say a word. Had she lost her voice all of a sudden?

Her phone buzzed as she received a text though, before answering, she looked up to him as if asking for permission to do so. "You better answer it. You don't want to keep _Jesse_ waiting."

"Oh Finn, what is your fucking problem?" In her moment of fury, she flung the phone to the floor, her expression mimicking that or a stroppy four year old.

It was his turn to be shocked. "I-I…"

"No," she shook her head furiously, jaw locked tightly, "you're acting as if I'm cheating on you when, last time I checked, we are _not_ together! Because Finn, to be with somebody, you have to actually have genuine feelings for them and unfortunately you don't. All you want is to mess with my heart because I was foolish enough to fall for you! Do you want me to stop feeling? Because I can't. I can't stop thinking about you, I can't forget that empty feeling whenever you're not near and, most of all, I can't forget you."

He looked into her eyes, the ones that glistened brightly.

She was crying, no, sobbing. "I love you Finn, not Jesse, not anyone else. I love _you_! What do I have to do to make you see it?"

And then she was gone, running out of his room. It was so quick that he took a moment to realise that she _wasn't_ facing him anymore. He'd already admitted to himself that he wasn't prepared to let her go, and he wasn't going to let her.

He ran after her, ignoring the shouts of his parents. Down the street, her figure was slowly walking away and he went after her, his long legs making it easy to catch up with the girl. She turned for a second, quickening her pace when she saw him. "Rachel!" he called after her, "Rach, please stop."

She didn't.

He could hear her sobs growing louder as he got closer.

Eventually, he was right beside her, taking hold of her arm and halting her from her determined walk. Though she wasn't walking away from him anymore, she refused to look him in the eye, hell, to even look at him.

"Go ahead," she mumbled; her cried louder than her words, "tell me that you want me to leave you alone for good."

"Rachel," he said so quietly that he barely heard it.

"Tell me that I'm too needy, or crazy or overdramatic. That I'm not as pretty as Quinn or-"

"Rach."

She hid her face in her hands, trying her best to hide the shame. With a soft smile, he pulled them down, peering cautiously into her eyes. "Look, you're right. You're not Quinn, but I don't love Quinn. I love _you_." At first, by her expression, he guessed that his words hadn't sunk in, but her eyes suddenly became wider than ever before.

"W-what did you just say?"

"I love you Rachel Berry," he told her, pulling her closer to him. Their foreheads were pressed against each other, their eyes locked. "I don't think that I could love you anymore than I already do."

Then she was crying again, this time smiling as she did. Her arms held him near her, like she was afraid that she was dreaming but he felt real. He felt _solid_. And he'd just told her that he loved her. "I love you too," she whispered, her heart melting at the grin that broke onto his face. His lips were instantly on hers, hot and passionate, and more wonderful than she'd imagined. Their second kiss, no, their first _real_ kiss, made her feel giddy. His strong arms were lifting her up, making it so that their faces were level.

It felt good.

It felt _right_.

When they finally parted from each other, with some reluctance on both parts, Finn looked down, suddenly laughing. "Rach, you're not wearing any shoes."

She shrugged sheepishly, wiping at her eyes. "I didn't have time to get any before I stormed out."

Finn's smiled increased. "I was wrong; I _can_ love you more than I already do. Come on, let's go back." Instead of letting her walk back, he hoisted her into his arms, giving her feet a break. She didn't complain, her head rolling against his chest before she placed a sweet kiss on his cheek. Their eyes met.

Everything had finally worked out. No more running.

* * *

"Mum, Burt, this is Rachel…the most amazing girl I've ever met…"

* * *

Puck rolled onto his side, watching Quinn slowly. "Do you think they've sorted their shit out and got together yet?"

She sighed. "Knowing Finn, we could be waiting years."

"Nah, Berry's too impatient for that."

* * *

"Finn," she was cautious, almost frightened, "you should know that Jesse tried to kiss me…" He tensed up, but hid his expression quickly. "I told him that I didn't have feelings for him. I was in love already."

His frown faded into a smile. "Oh yeah, who with?"

"You know him very well," she smirked, raising her eyebrow.

"I do?"

Her grin was irreplaceable. He thought that she was just too cute for words. "Yes," she nodded excitedly, like a child. "He's handsome…and kind…and talented…an-" She was cut off by his lips. "So, you're not mad about Jesse then?"

"No. It's all in the past, right?"

"Right." She took hold of his hand giving it a light squeeze.

* * *

A week later, Finn and Rachel slowly climbed up the stairs to Finn's- wait- _their_ apartment. The last seven days spent hiding from the rest of the world in Lima offered them a new start, as a couple, as friends and just as people, but they were back. It felt good to be home.

Rachel was surprised when she was bombarded by a large golden retriever, the dog licking at her in a greeting. "Get down!" Finn grabbed him by the collar, struggling with the dog whilst she giggled. With its tail between its legs, it walked away sadly. "Sorry," he mumbled, "you'll get used to that."

"He's cute," she told him, eyeing him as he peered from the kitchen.

"Yeah," Finn rubbed the back of his neck, "he's sort of clumsy…and in the way all the time."

She couldn't help herself, "sort of like you?"

"Hey!" he said, realising that she was joking when the fit of laughter came. "That was mean," he pouted, catching her off guard and lifting her up quickly, which was easy with her little frame. He too now laughed, the both of them falling in a heap on their couch. In the chaos, Finn knocked over a pile of magazines, which were now spread across the floor. Rachel quickly got up to help him sort them out, surprised at some of the items she found on the top.

"Why would you possibly want to audition for Chicago or Les Mis, Finn?" She held them up questioningly, "and I didn't know that you wanted to be Elphaba in Wicked. Is there something that you're not telling me?" His face was a picture.

He pointed to them. "They're for you!" Finn was panicking, trying to make himself appear less strange, though unsuccessfully, "ever since I heard you sing, I started asking Kurt to find the auditions for you. He's good with those things… I-I thought that it was time you started your dream again…"

When she didn't say anything, the strain on his heart was too much. "Rach, ple-"

She held up her hand to silence him. "You did that for me?" he recognised her tears of happiness, crawling over the floor to be beside her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, placing a kiss onto the skin. "You're the most thoughtful man in the world."

"So," he looked up at her, "you'll start auditioning again?"

A smile crept onto her face.

* * *

"Berry, get your arse over here right now?" Puck commanded, breaking his grip on Quinn's waist to pull Rachel into a bear hug. He ruffled her hair, something that had become quite a habit, much to her annoyance: she was not a four year old child, "tell me that you got the part or do I have to make some people reconsider?"

She could barely contain her, "I got it!" Jumping up and down with happiness, she was caught in another embrace, this time by Quinn. Though sometimes the two didn't always get along, they still considered each other to be friends.

The blonde smiled, "well done Rachel. I knew that you could do it."

"I believe that _I_ was the one who said that," a new voice said, Finn appearing behind Rachel and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "that doesn't meant that I didn't agree with it. Just because you're dating her doesn't mean that you get all of the credit."

At this, Finn proudly pulled Rachel closer to him, before saying, "we should go out to celebrate."

"Totally," Puck grinned wickedly, "I know where we can go…"

"Noah!" Rachel was quickly to deploy his plan, "you are not tricking us into going anywhere near a strip club, never mind actually _in_ one.

"Damn!" he muttered under his breathe, earning a smack from the brunette. He rubbed his sore arm, childishly sticking his tongue out at her.

Finn and Quinn shared a look. It had been only a few weeks and they'd already realised that the relationship that these two shared was one of teasing each other just for the fun of it, Puck usually being the one doing the teasing. He held Rachel back from lunging toward the man, her fists poised in a very unladylike manner. With a flick of her nose in the air, she flounced off with Finn in tow. Puck snickered to himself, taking Quinn by the hand.

* * *

They sat in the bar, a table near the front of the stage. "Please Finn, can we move? This singer is insulting my ears."

He shook his head, laughing to himself. Insulting her ears? Where did she come up with this stuff? To distract her, he pulled her closer and began a session of heated making out. That was until Puck threw his scrunched up jacket at them. Rachel sent him her most deadly stare, though didn't have time to retaliate as he asked. "Do you guys want something to drink?"

"Water," she said. She knew that she wanted some alcohol, it would be nice to be able to enjoy it, but she was scared that she'd enjoy it _too_ much.

Finn seemed to be reading her mind, "get us two beers." Her confusion was obvious. "Rach, he placed his hand on hers, "I know that you stopped drinking from those meetings, but it's better if you learn to drink in moderation. To just enjoy it…" He then smiled, "I'm going to help you, one step at a time."

She pouted, "only if we can move."

"Fine," he groaned, "I wouldn't want your ears to be further offended." When she shot him a pointed look, he pretended to be talking to Quinn, sneaking smirk her way. Still, her fingers remained clasped on her. "This feels good," he told her when he finally got her alone, "being together like this. I've never been happier."

"Me either," she agreed, "I have everything that I ever wanted. You, friends, my dream job and I know that that monster is locked away far from here."

He pulled a face, "let's not talk about him."

She nodded.

"You know, it's strange, but I couldn't imagine my life without you."

"Really?" her eyes brightened.

"Really, there's just something. I don't really understand it, yet it feel like we're just meant to be, like we're connected," he paused, not wanting to sound too forward, "do you feel it too?"

Rachel never faltered. "Every day."

**The End**

* * *

**So, I would love your opinions and feedback. I really want to know whether to carry on with this style of fanfic. Thank you for all of you who took the time to read, alert, favourite and review this story. It really means a lot to me! **

**Please review **

**Stay alert for any new stories...**


	9. Epilogue

**So, this story is finished, but I thought that maybe a small epilogue would be nice. And sorry that it took me forever to write, despite its size.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**8 years later**_

Finn held a little more tightly onto his children's hands as the ground slowly grew around them. He didn't want a repeat of the last time he managed to lose one of them. The two were bickering about something or other, not that he was paying much attention (it was a common occurrence in the Hudson household.

"Isobel! George!" he scolded them when the argument took a turn for the worse. Leaning down, he spoke to both his children, "come on you two. Tonight is mommy's special night and you don't want to make her upset by arguing."

He was met with guilty stares. The kids hated making Rachel upset as something about seeing their mother cry just wasn't right.

"Okay daddy," Isobel agreed a little unwillingly, sending a warning glare in her younger brother's direction. Finn chuckled at her, seeing that she was so much like Rachel already, even at five years old. She was like a carbon copy. Although, sometimes it could be a little daunting when the two girls ganged up on him. Finn shuddered at the memory before looking down to see George tugging on his pants.

"What?" he asked gently.

"Pick me up," he ordered quickly, lifting up his arms. He did so, lifting the little boy up so that he could see over the crowd. "Where's mommy?" he asked, peering around nosily. "I want mommy."

"She's inside," he explained, "and we'll see her after the show. Do you two promise to be good before then?"

Two eager nods were sent him way.

"Daddy, I want you to carry _me_," Isobel huffed, clearly not a fan of having anything less than Finn's full attention.

"C'mere then," he scooped her up with one arm and she leaned into his side. "You're getting too big for this," he joked, laughing at the look of horror on his face. He didn't know why, but she loved it when he carried her around. He liked doing it too, well, until his arms started aching anyway.

"I'm only five!" she cried.

"You've been telling everyone that you're six all week," he smirked.

Isobel rolled her eyes, "I said _almost_ six, daddy. And I am. It's nearly my birthday."

"That's three months away."

She crossed her arms and pouted toward him, her large brown eyes larger than normal. He merely shook his head at her and laughed, bringing her closer to hug her small body. She nuzzled her face into his neck.

On his other side, George suddenly shrieked. "Look, there's mommy!" His shouts gained the attention of most of the people around him. Finn followed the direction that he was pointing to see the large picture of Rachel outside the theatre, along with her co-star _Michael Eddows_. Just the thought of him made Finn burst with rage. He was the most self-centred, narcissistic, rude and incorrigible man that he'd met, and those were Rachel's words, not his.

She hated the months spent rehearsing with him, especially when they had to do the most pivotal kiss of the play. There was, of course, more kisses (five, much to Finn's annoyance) but this one was passionate and deep. He only liked it when she kissed _him_ that way.

"Mommy!" Isobel squeaked, "that's my mommy!" She clapped her hands together excitedly, "where is she now daddy?"

"She's getting ready inside," he told her, "so that she can perform to all these people."

"All these people?" she peered around the crowd in awe, "won't she be nervous?"

"Your mommy doesn't get nervous," he chuckled. "'Cause she's like a Supermom, right?"

"Right!" George chirped into his other ear.

Isobel hugged his head, "and you're Superdad."

Finn grinned at their words. It's always been a little joked that he liked to tease Rachel with, calling her Supermom because she seemed to be able to do anything and with great ease. Not soon after, she started to get the kids to call him Superdad. They even gave him his own super powers, which included being tall and inhumanly strong.

"You're not starting that again?"

Turning around, he saw Puck and Quinn heading toward them. "Hey," he greeted Quinn with a hug and a kiss on the cheek then he bumped fists with Puck, who proceeded to the same with George.

Isobel frowned, "what about me Uncle Puck?"

"Issie, you're a _girl_. Chicks can't do stuff like that. Now get here and give me a hug right now!" his face broke out into a smile as she extended her arms towards him. As they hugged, Finn stood by Quinn.

"How're you doing?" he asked nosily. Quinn was currently eight months pregnant with her and Puck's second child, their first daughter. They already have a son, Ben, who was born a week before Isobel.

She returned the smile, "I'm great." She runs a hand along her prominent bump, "Actually, I'm wonderful."

"Good," he told her, being cut off by an excited George.

"Daddy! We're going in!" he grinned, "I wanna go in."

"Okay," Finn chuckled, "let's go and get our seats. It'll be a long show." His face falters slightly, "maybe you should go to the toilet first George. Just to be sure. Mommy won't want you to miss any of her parts, will she?"

The toddler shook his head, climbing down from Finn as if he was a climbing frame himself and scrambling towards the bathroom. Making sure that Isobel was safe with Puck and Quinn, he follows after to make sure that George didn't get stuck in the toilet or something. His son was _really_ tiny.

He walked in to find trying to talk to a man who was currently attempting the use the urinal. "Sorry," he apologised quickly and dragged George away, sending him into a cubicle instead.

Ten minutes later, he walked into the theatre with a hyper George in his arms. It didn't help that he had to walk past everyone else, who'd already found their seats, to get to the front with the giddy child. Seriously, why didn't children have an off button?

At least Isobel understood how important it was to be quiet during times like this. She sat primly in her seat, sitting up straight and looking at the stage with eager eyes. He nudged her gently, "hey, you excited?"

She beamed, "yes! I bet that mommy will be the best."

"I bet she will too," he chuckled.

* * *

Rachel couldn't stop grinning. It was actually starting to hurt her cheeks. Michael walked beside her, talking non-stop about his "ground breaking performance." She knew that she liked to talk about herself, but this guy was ridiculous.

She ground to a half when she saw Finn waiting outside her dressing room with the kids and her smile increased a thousand times over. She wasn't ashamed to say that she practically ran to him, letting him large arms envelope her in a hug. "Hey," she breathed as she resurfaced from his kiss.

"Mommy!" Isobel stomped her foot as she stood between the pair.

"Yes baby?" Rachel smiled down at her daughter.

"I liked your play," she said, adding a large smile for effect, "but George fell asleep." She pointed an accusing finger at her brother, who looks like he could fall right back to sleep any second.

The brunette picked up George, who looked guilty as soon as the words left Isobel's mouth. "That's okay," she subconsciously started to smarten out the collar of the shirt Finn forced him to wear, "how about we go back home and I'll put you to bed?"

"Will you sing to me?" he yawned.

She gently brushed some of his hair out of his face, "of course." Finn smiled at her and gently held out his hand for her to take. "So did _you_ like the show?" she asked.

Finn couldn't help but place another kiss to her soft lips. "I like every show you're in. You're amazing Rach."

After all these years, his words still managed to make her blush.

"Seriously," he went on, "you could sing me the dictionary and I would sit and listen all the way through."

"Don't put ideas into my head," she joked.

"Hey losers!" they heard from behind them, being reunited with Puck. He immediately pulled Rachel into a tight hug, even with George in her grasp. The little boy merely got caught in the middle of the embrace. He was used to it. All the kids knew that Puck and Rachel were close and they actually believed him to be their _real_ Uncle and, since none of the adults really felt it necessary to correct them, that's how it would always be. "You did great," he whispered into her ear, "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," she smiled, "do you think it was Tony worthy?"

He rolled his eyes, "yes, of course." She set a stern look upon him, "hey, Berry, I'm being honest here."

"It's _Hudson_," she corrected, "and where's Quinn? I thought that she was coming tonight."

"She went to the bathroom, again. What else is new?" he shrugged, his arm still around Rachel.

"Uncle Puck," Isobel started, "can you tell mommy and daddy to get me a dog? They only listen to you!"

All the adults laughed and Puck ruffled her brunette curls. "Look, your parents will do what they want. I can't make them get a dog, but I can take you to get one. You know that your mom won't be able to turn it away once she sees it."

Rachel scowled toward him, shaking her head. "We don't have any room for a dog," she explained.

"Yeah we do," Isobel frowned, starting to make herself cry. Finn had walked in on Rachel teaching her this once, calling it a "necessary talent".

"I'm not falling for that," Rachel replied firmly, "it's your dad that can't resist the puppy dog look, remember?"

As soon as she said that, Isobel spun around to Finn and his heart clenches at her sad expression. Thankfully, Puck saved him by beginning to talk, "well, I should be going. Quinn'll want to go home and eat…" he didn't look too pleased, "but seriously Berry, you kicked butt tonight. I felt like a proud big brother." He went to ruffle her hair as he had done Isobel's but she swatted his hand away.

"Laters," he said instead, turning on his heel, "I'll call by sometime. You know, force you to babysit my kid or something. The usual."

"Okay," Rachel smiled. They all watched him retreat down the hallway until it was empty once more

She eyed the door that led out of the side of the building, no doubt with fans waiting. "I should go," she told Finn, "I promise that I'll keep it shorter than last time." Last time, she was out there making sure that every fan got an autograph.

"Go," he told her gently with a soft smile. "Me and the kids will wait in the car for you." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, taking George from her, "but you just enjoy yourself."

She smiled: she always enjoyed herself. This was the place that she never thought she'd get to, a place that she dared not even dreaming about all those years ago and now, with the help of Finn, she was here.

He'd been her everything, her biggest fan and her greatest support system, along with Noah of course. Since gaining the lead in _Rent_ all those years ago, she'd come a long way from the way that she'd been. She'd changed as a person and she was so thankful for the night that she'd met Finn because, well, he'd basically saved her life.

Finn was her everything. And he gave her everything that she needed. It was difficult to imagine a life without him. He'd be her husband for just over six years and every day she woke up wondering how she was so lucky.

And moreover, he gave her two beautiful children. After everything with Jacob, she wasn't sure whether she'd be able to be comfortable ever getting to _that_ stage with a man again. But Finn, he was so patient and so caring, and she almost fell in love with him all over again. Now she has Isobel and George, who are her world. Her family.

When she moved to New York at the age of nineteen, with nothing but bad memories, she could have imagined her life ending up so amazing in less than ten years.

As she stepped out of the door, into the crowds of screaming fans waving playbills and autograph books, her face burst into a grin.

This is where she belonged.

She took a moment to savour her surroundings, taking a deep breath to stay calm. It felt like a dream every time.

It made her so happy. That's what she was.

_Happy_.

She'd never get bored of saying that.

And yes, she was never going to be able to be able to forget her past, nor would she want to. It made her who she is today. The occasional nightmare of Jacob escaping prison wasn't going to bring her down, she just wouldn't let it.

She spent as much time as she could talking to the fans, but eventually she knew that she needed to get back to Finn. After apologising, she swiftly left the building and found the family car parked only a street away.

"Hey," she climbed in beside Finn, taking in the warmth of the car. Peering into the back seat, she saw the two children fast asleep, "was I gone that long?"

He shook his head, "nah. They've just had a long night." He started the engine, slowly pulling out, "it's way past their bedtime anyway."

Rachel giggled as she heard George snoring from the back of the car. "He's so much like you," she commented, her eyes stuck on Finn.

He grinned, "What? Totally awesome."

She merely smiled in return before letting out a content sigh. Peering back again, she said, "I think that I could fall asleep too." Finn's bottom lip pouts out, "I'm really tired, okay? You're going to be sharing a bed with me for the rest of your life. You're bound to get some _eventually_."

Finn turned to look at her, "I should hope so."

"Finn!" she said sternly, though ended up beaming anyway. "I have some news for you."

"Oh yeah?" he smirked.

She gently placed her hand on his arm, "yes." Biting her lip softly, she said, "I'm pregnant."


End file.
